Riddle Me This
by Little Witch1
Summary: Two years after the second uprising of the Dark Lord known as Voldemort, strange occurences begin to take place. Family heritige is unearthed, loyalties questioned, and the Order realises that Harry isn't the only child Voldemort is after.
1. Prologue

A/N: I know this has been done before by a few people, but not enough in my opinion. So here is my version. Oh, and as a note, there will be a sequel entitled, 'Riddle Me That'.  
  
"I present to you, the dark lord of the wizarding world, Lord Voldemort,"  
  
Gracefully descending the stairs, and air of importance surrounding him, was a man once known as Tom Riddle. He was clothed in robes of ebony and had a look of superiority on his pale face. A twisted smile was set in place and carefully hidden in his robes, unknown by everyone else in the room, was his wand. Surrounding him at the bottom of the stairs were many people dressed in black, all men, while the women donned dress robes of alternating colours. These were his followers, his minions, his slaves, his Death Eaters. They were the scourge of the wizarding world, the thorn in its side, the devil to its underworld.  
  
The year was 1980, the date unknown, and each face in the crowd has since been imprisoned, put on trial or killed in some form or another. However, at present this was a grand ball, an introduction ball to be more precise. This was the introduction of someone very close to the dark lord, who knew every part of him down to the last hair on his head. This was a person privy to the deepest regions of his past, at least the past he had decided to divulge. There was so much more he should have told, so much more he should have confided, but he wasn't the type of person to just say anything to anyone, no matter how close to them he was.  
  
"Loyal followers! You stand before me now in the prime of your servitude. We have practically defeated the fools in the Ministry of Magic and with their downfall there will be a great uprising. The uprising of a new age, the age of magic! An age when purebloods will dominate over all life in both worlds. Where muggles, unworthy to walk this earth will be obliterated from all existence to make way for those who deserve to live. For us!"  
  
This speech was met with a roar of applause from the rapt audience and Tom Riddle basked in the glow of power. He was in full control of these people. He held their lives in the palm of his hand and with that he controlled their will and their minds. He made sure double-crossers were punished publicly so as to assure that others will not follow that example. They were ruthless and stonehearted. They were fierce and devious. They were his.  
  
"Now, now, this is not a time to be discussing...business," he said with a smile, listening to the light laughter from his audience. "This is a time for me to introduce someone very close to me. She will be treated with the utmost respect and dignity, as she deserves it all. It is my pleasure to introduce to you, my wife, the dark lady, Annelise Riddle!"  
  
From atop the stairs, there came a woman. She walked with a light and dignified step, the step of a queen, and held her head high. She wore a dress of blue satin and diamonds around her long neck. Her long ebony locks were pinned at the top of her head and small diamonds rested in the nest of curls. She was fair of face and as pale as newly fallen snow. Little had been done to accentuate her already astonishing beauty, but there was a glow about her. A glow that only few could recognize properly, but of course, this wasn't the only thing odd about her. Her gown, while slim and delicate, was larger than previously mentioned. As she came to stand beside her husband, she rested one hand in his and the other on the sizeable mound that was her stomach. She rubbed her hand over the bump, along her navel, and finally came to rest near the base of her belly.  
  
"As you can plainly see, my lovely wife and I are expecting. This is to ensure that everything will go as planned if I am somehow disposed of," Tom Riddle smiled at his wife, and she smiled back without so much as a pause. "Now before the festivities begin, I would like to congratulate Lucius Malfoy on his own heir. Little Draco, as I've been informed, is doing quite well. Let the party begin!"  
  
Music began to play from an unknown source and the guests began to mingle. Annelise bowed to her husband and walked away into the crowed to enjoy the ball. Many wondered how a woman like Annelise could love a man like Tom Riddle. How she could love someone so cruel and set in his ways of hate and destruction? The answer was simple; she knew not Lord Voldemort, but Tom Marvolo Riddle. She knew the boy and the man he was inside, the one he was with her. He was far older than she, but it mattered little. Ever since she looked upon him she knew she was destined to love him. From their first kiss to the conception of their child she knew that he and only he was told hold her heart.  
  
It was true, she didn't agree with his ways. She was loyal to love which meant she was loyal to him and his cause. Of course, she was not the only member of her family who was loyal to him. Her elder brother, second born in their family, Severus, was among the throng of people dancing and talking to each other. Yes, she was Annelise Snape-Riddle, first-born daughter of the Snape family.  
  
The Snapes were neutral in matters of war. In a way they were like Switzerland. The elder Snapes, her parents, neither agreed nor disagreed with Tom Riddle's ways. Her elder brother Salazar was neutral as well, whilst Severus was wholly on the side of the dark. However, Annelise could see that his loyalty was wavering. He was beginning to doubt what he was doing and why. She would not tell her husband, but Severus may turn over to the side of light if not proven otherwise. The youngest in the Snape family, Lenore, was undecided in her loyalties. She already had two siblings on the side of dark, but what about the side of light, the side of goodness and virtue. What about the people she could be helping by pledging her life and knowledge to Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. The young woman was still in the process of building a life of neutrality, so naturally she would be uncertain.  
  
She moved through the crowed, tilting her head to the faces she knew and the ones she knew held great power, until she came to a face she knew all too well. He was standing at the back of the room, a half-empty champagne flute in his hand. He was withdrawn from the other guests, black robes held close to him, but when their eyes met, black on black, a smile graced the normally solemn face.  
  
"Severus, why so glum?" she asked, smiling at her elder brother.  
  
"You know very well Annelise that I detest parties of any sort. Even if they are surrounded around you," Severus said, looking around the room.   
  
"Severus you are a dull man at times. Now, how are you and the rest of the family? I haven't spoken to you in ages and I want to do some catching up." Annelise said, standing close to her brother, smile still on her lips.  
  
"Normal, as usual. Salazar is currently fretting over Stephano no matter how many times Amelia tells him not to and mother and father are fine as well. Lenore is expecting, apparently only two months along," her drawled. "But you know the comings and goings of our family. The real question is how you are, darling sister. Last time I saw you, you were a size six, now you are twice that."  
  
"We are perfectly fine," said Annelise, gesturing to herself and her belly. "She kicks something awful though. Always at the most in-opportune times as well."  
  
"She?"  
  
"Well I'm not going to go around referring to the baby as 'it' now am I? I just, chose she," Annelise explained, somewhat bashfully.  
  
"Do you know the sex of the baby yet?" asked Severus.  
  
"No, not yet,"  
  
"What will you do if it's a girl? What will he do if it's a girl?" he stressed.  
  
"I don't know. I'm sure Tom will be happy whatever the sex is, but I can't help but think..." she trailed off, casting her eyes downward.  
  
"That he will want to get rid of it if it's a girl? That he won't want a daughter at all? You know that the Dark Lord thinks that a suitable male heir is best as a starting point. The question is, what would happen if your first-born is female," said Severus in a serious manner.  
  
"Severus, I don't know what would happen. I guess we will just have to keep trying until we have a son, if this child is a girl. She...just won't inherit everything I guess," By now Annelise was very nervous about the tone of the conversation. This was not the way to start the evening.  
  
"Annelise, Anna, please," said Severus, lifting her chin up so that their eyes met. "Let's just forget I even said anything, alright? Let's just forget about it."  
  
Annelise nodded and kissed her brothers hand. Once again she resumed her smile so no one around them would suspect that anything was wrong. However, against her better judgement, the conversation went to more nerve-wracking topics than it had previously.  
  
"Have you decided, Severus? Have you spoken to him?"  
  
Severus sighed. He hated discussing this, especially in a setting such as this. Even his parents were wondering which side he would chose, enough with the mindless flip-flopping. He needed to make a decision, and soon.  
  
"Um, yes, I have spoken to him," he mumbled so that only Annelise heard.  
  
"Well, what did he say?" Annelise was eager to hear about her brother's talk with Headmaster Dumbledore.   
  
"He said that I could join him if I was absolutely sure it was what I wanted, but I'm not so sure. I mean, I've seen what Voldemort does to traitors and backstabbers and I never wanted to be them. I still don't." Severus' tone had turned softer, unsure; a tone reserved only for the one's he cared about.  
  
"Severus, you are favoured by Tom, I'm sure if you made one simple mistake he would forgive you." At time's Annelise could be so naive.  
  
"Annelise, it matters not how favoured you are or how well you serve him, if you turn your back on Voldemort he will punish you with the utmost severity. I've seen it done. He cares little to the plea's of betrayers," said Severus, his voice low and cold.  
  
"Severus, how can you say that?" Annelise asked, outraged.  
  
"Annelise, look around you! Everyone here is afraid of him, even those most loyal to him. Even if you betrayed him he would not think twice." Severus hissed.  
  
"You're wrong. He would never turn his back on me. You're just making him out to be cruel and monstrous because you don't want me to be with him." Annelise was now backing away from her brother, step by step.  
  
"Annelise, don't you see, he is a monster!" Severus almost screamed.  
  
"Now I see where your loyalties lie, but you're wrong. You're wrong,"   
  
Annelise had now backed far away from him, turned on her heel and walked swiftly away. Instead of heading back upstairs to her rooms or towards her husband who was talking to a dark man by the name of Nott, she walked to the gardens. In the early evening, the garden was cool and calm. The pale white roses were almost translucent in the light from the ballroom, the intoxicating smell of the lilacs filled her senses with its sweet fragrance. Annelise came here every afternoon for some air, as was prescribed by her doctor. She would walk for hours around the perfectly cultivated gardens, around the borders of ferns and herbs and the blooming forsythia that lied in each bed. Flowers held nothing towards her or her choices in life and never judged her for whom she was and whom she was associated with. They never told her that she was merely a trophy in the eyes of others, that her only function in Tom Riddle's life was to breed a suitable heir. They never told her that she had made a mistake that would cost her everything she held dear. They never scolded or warned or past judgement. They were just flowers; beautiful to look at and delicate to the touch, just like her.  
  
*  
  
Tom Riddle, months after the ball that had announced Annelise as his wife and queen, was pacing about a long hall in a frantic fashion. Around him were Severus Snape, the Malfoy's and their two-month-old son Draco and a few others that he even forgot were present. At the moment Annelise was located behind the gilded doors that led to her room, sitting on her bed writhing in pain. She had been in that room since early morning and had yet to come out. The mid-wife had made a brief appearance, only to say that the process of labour would be long and tiresome. Since then the only sound they had heard was the cries of pain every-so-often when a contraction was particularly painful. Tom Riddle's patience was running thin.  
  
"My lord, I tell you she will not be much longer," said Lucius, one arm wrapped around his wife's shoulders. "Draco's birth was not much longer than this. I assure you,"  
  
Narcissa, wife of Lucius, made a small sniff as if to say that it may have been short to him as all he did during the long hours was pace back and forth and answer owls.  
  
"Lucius is right my lord. Annelise will not take much longer," said Severus, as anxious to know the condition of his sister, as Tom Riddle was to know the sex of his heir.  
  
As if she had been listening at the door the mid-wife, a short, plump woman came through the doors and hesitantly smiled at the dark lord. Slowly, as if testing her tongue, she spoke to the crowed of worried people.  
  
"Congratulations my lord, you have a healthy daughter," she bowed and walked back into the room, leaving the doors ajar, unaware of the effect her words had had on Tom Riddle.  
  
No one moved, no one spoke, nothing made a sound. Everyone was glued steadfast in their chairs and Tom Riddle was as still as a statue. His heir, the one he had made such large plans for over the months of it's gestation, was a girl. It was a she. He had a daughter, not the son he had hoped for. Yes, it was true he had wanted a son. He had wanted someone to follow in his footsteps, to take his place and rule when he no longer could, to mould in his own image. Now, located in that room only feet away from where he stood, lied his daughter, a daughter who had no place in his plans.  
  
"M-my lord," said Severus, worried about the reaction this had had on Tom Riddle. After all, he had just predicted that the dark lord had wanted a son, now it seemed to be true.  
  
Shrugging off Severus' worry, Tom Riddle strode into the room and shut the door behind him. He walked over, in agitated and somewhat angry strides, to Annelise's bedside. However, instead of sitting on the bed next to her, marvelling at the little wonder they had created, he stood, rigid, a foot away from the bed. Annelise, however, was smiling. Her forehead glistened with sweat and she was exhausted from the rigours of labour, but she was happy. She had her child, wrapped in a cotton blanket, resting in her arms. When she saw the face of her husband, his stance and the aura in which he presented himself, her smile fell.  
  
"Is that her?" asked Ton Riddle, pointing at the baby with his index finger.  
  
"Yes, isn't she beautiful?" said Annelise, cooing at the baby lovingly. "Tom, come here, come and see your daughter."  
  
Tom resisted. He stood where he was, unmoving. He didn't want that child, he had never wanted that child and he would never want that child as long as it was female. It could be the most powerful child in the world and he wouldn't give a damn.  
  
"Tom," said Annelise, wondering why he wasn't walking over to her, why he stood so far away as if she carried the plague.  
  
"Did you know she was female?" he asked.  
  
"No, I told you. I never knew," Annelise answered.  
  
"Do you swear, on your life, on the life of that child that you never knew it was a girl until you gave it birth!" he cried, livid.  
  
"Tom, what's wrong? Why are you so angry?"  
  
"That thing has no place in this house! No place carrying my name as long as it is of the female sex! It should have been male, to carry out the plans I had set down for it! That child should not exist!" Tom Riddle was furious with his wife, although she had no control over weather or not the baby was a boy or girl.  
  
"How can you say that? How can you say that this child means nothing to you when it is of your own flesh and blood?" Annelise cried, tears forming in her eyes.  
  
"You knew from the day she was conceived that it was to be a boy, that we were to have a son and not a daughter. You knew since before that day of what I requested and you disobeyed me."   
  
"Tom I have no control on the sex of the baby and I cannot change it at will. Why are you saying these things? I never thought you could love your child any less if it was a girl."  
  
"I do. I do and I want it done away with. I want that child out of my sight and I want it done now. Now!" With that Tom Riddle whirled around and fled the room. Once out he fled to his own chambers to mull things over, to wonder what had happened.  
  
Inside the bedroom, red in the face with tears streaming down her cheeks, sat Annelise. Her daughter was in her arms, sleeping soundly, and the only thought in her mind was that she was to get rid of it. Her husband, whom she thought loved her no matter what, ordered their daughter dead before he had even held her. Already, within minutes of its birth, Annelise had known that she had loved the child since before she had seen it. She didn't care that it was a girl, she didn't care that all her husbands plans had been ruined by the mid-wife's simple words, all that mattered was that she had her baby. However, inside she was breaking.  
  
"It's alright Anna. It's all right. Everything will turn out alright in the end, you'll see." Severus was slowly stroking her hair, kissing her head affectionately.  
  
"He wants her killed, his own daughter. He wants to kill her before she has any chance." Annelise was sobbing uncontrollably now, hugging her baby close.  
  
"I know, I heard. Don't you worry, Voldemort will sort some things out and then he'll come around. Just give him an hour or two," said Severus, rocking her back and forth as she cried, just as he had done when they were small.  
  
"Oh Severus,"   
  
Annelise was breaking. Her heart, her soul, her very being was shattering and the shards were being strewn about for all to see. She was in a pain that ran right through her and broke every fibre and no one was there to help her. After many minutes, however, she had calmed and Severus smiled at her and looked down and the now waking child.  
  
"Now, let's see here. Who might this be?" Severus said playfully.  
  
"This is-oh my I haven't even thought of a name," said Annelise with worry.  
  
"Well, what did you have in mind?" he asked.  
  
"I'm not sure. I thought I would know when I saw her but nothing comes to mind," said Annelise. "Wait, I know. Hermione. Hermione Prudence Riddle."  
  
"Hermione, I love it," whispered Severus, kissing his sister's forehead and rubbing his niece's cheek with his finger. The small child yawned and settled back down into her mother's breast where she drifted off to sleep once more.  
  
*  
  
Indeed, as Severus had predicted, Tom Riddle had come around. It had taken weeks for him to except that he had a daughter, weeks to rearrange his plans, but in the end he had come to accept the fact that he had a baby girl. He had apologised profusely, an occurrence that only happened to Annelise, but even though she had forgiven him, let it slide as shock, she was still unsure of his real feelings. He was still slightly tense in the presence of Hermione, never really showed that he truly cared for the child, but in the end, after months of adjusting, he had come around. Annelise never did know what plans he had had for their son, or what he had for Hermione, but she remained as neutral to the comings and goings that went on in the manor as possible. As the months past and the visits between Lucius, Severus and Tom Riddle became more frequent Annelise did begin to worry. She knew they were planning something, something that her brother was not privy to tell her. After Hermione's first birthday, however, she found out what it was.  
  
"Anna you need to go, you need to leave now," said Severus in a frantic tone on October thirty-first, 1981. It was evening, a dark and starless night, and Severus had apparated over late that evening, to instruct his sister on how to get out of the manor.  
  
"Why?" she asked.  
  
"Annelise, listen to me, it is no longer safe for you or Hermione to be here. You must leave and get as far away from here as possible. You are no longer a Riddle, you must leave this life behind." Severus instructed.  
  
"Severus, what has happened? What's going on? I will not leave until you tell me exactly why I should do so," said Annelise, standing firm in the middle of her bedroom.  
  
"Annelise, hours ago, your husband left this house on what he called 'business'. You, as always, didn't question him. This 'business' that he was to do, was to kill the young Potter child, a child by the name of Harry. In his attempt, he was killed. The child however survived. Aurors are coming here even as we speak. You must leave for your own safety before you are locked in Azkaban until a trial you might not come out of in good grace." Severus was stern but gentle as he spoke to his sister and never once raised his voice.  
  
"D-dead? Tom is dead?" Annelise slowly backed towards the bed, stumbling as the back of her legs hit the side.  
  
"Anna, sit down love," said Severus, helping her to take a seat on the edge of the bed.  
  
"H-how could this have happened? You say it was by a mere child, one with no extraordinary magical gifts. H-how could he have defeated T-tom? H-how?" by this time, Annelise was slightly hysterical, silent tears running down her cheeks.  
  
"It's okay Anna. Everything will be fine," Severus rubbed her back in circular motions with one arm, the other wrapped around her shoulders.  
  
"How? How is everything going to be all right? How will everything go back to the way it always was when my husband is no longer on this earth? Tell me Severus, tell me!" cried Annelise.  
  
"Anna, I do not know how things will return to the way they were. I know you loved him, and I know he loved you as well, but at present you must get yourself out of here. You must leave. Understood?"  
  
Annelise nodded, whipping her eyes. As Severus was leaving, after some of her things were packed and shrunk to fit in her pocket, Annelise asked one question. After all, there was no telling how long it would be until they saw each other once more.  
  
"Sev, who's side are you on?"  
  
Severus smiled, "I'm on both sides. I'm a spy, but that's not something we can discuss now."  
  
"Severus, wait," once again, he paused and Annelise rushed forward and hugged him, arms wrapped around his neck. "I love you."  
  
"I love you too, now go,"  
  
Severus left, running down the massive hallway and down the flight of stairs so as to avoid being captured. Annelise through on a hooded cloak, picked up her daughter, and left in the opposite direction. She ran for quite some time, through the manor and out onto the grounds, through a field and over a hill. When she was far enough away to not be spotted, she looked back at what had once been her home. There she saw the light of thrown spells and heard the distant cry of both Death Eaters and Aurors. She only looked but once, so as to remember it always, and then she left for the road.  
  
"Excuse me, do you need a lift?"  
  
A/N: I know, wonderful ending eh? Lol. Anyway, this is the prologue in the first part of this two part series. I know that I already have two other stories up right now, and a couple that need an update desperately, but I got into this. I foresee good things for this fic.   
  
Also, never fear, CFFG will be done with at least fifteen or so chapters in the fic, ESLO will be following LOTR: TTT and ROTK so it will be more. I'm still working on it though. So, in conclusion, I hope you like this and will review! The first part in the Riddle Series has arrived! 


	2. Chapter 1:Appearences Can Be Decieving

A/N: Here's the first chapter of the story! I hope you like it and will review!!  
  
Much had happened since that faithful night of October thirty-first. Many Death Eaters had been captured and sentenced to certain times in Azkaban Wizarding Prison, others had gone free. Aurors had died at the hands of these people, and those members of the Order of the Phoenix who had survived, wept for the death, dismemberment and sanity of their comrades. For Annelise, however, things were much different. On the night in question, the woman had walked for miles along concrete roads, waiting for any sign of civilization. She walked for hours until a young college student making his way home from school spotted her. His being a kind heart, he pulled over and examined her rugged and travel worn appearance before offering her a ride. They had exchanged names, the students being Henry Granger, and he opened his home to her and little Hermione.  
  
"You, um, you can stay with, um, me if you like," Henry had said, shyly and uncertain.   
  
"Thank you," said Annelise, smiling at him, causing him to blush furiously and keep his eyes on the road.  
  
"A-are you married?" Henry managed to stutter out after a moments pause.  
  
"I was," said Annelise, her voice low and soft. "But I'm not anymore."  
  
"If you don't mind me saying, you look awful young to have been married already. I mean, you look nineteen or maybe twenty," Henry trailed off, coughing so as to not embarrass himself further.  
  
"I married young, right out of school. I'm nineteen by the way," said Annelise, not meeting his eyes, which were in aw at a woman such as she.  
  
Indeed, Henry was in aw. Annelise was unlike any woman he had ever met, and from first glance he fell in love with her. To say that his feelings were reciprocated would be a lie. She did love him, in time, but not the way she did Tom. She was not destined to love this kind muggle, but rather the harsh and loving wizard whom had been taken away from her so cruelly.  
  
Henry took Annelise to his home in a small muggle town. He made sure that she and Hermione were settled in before he went back to school, commuting every day to the out-of-town dentistry college. As time passed, Annelise grew accustomed to the ways of muggles and soon worked as Henry's assistant at his dental surgery once he graduated. Henry's love for Annelise grew day by day, as did his love for her daughter, and soon he took advantage of their close friendship and took her out to dinner. Months past, and the couple married, and then, when Hermione was six years old, Annelise gave birth to a son. The boy, who had by no means any Riddle blood within him, looked so much like Tom is was almost painful. He had his mother's ebony locks and his fathers deep brown eyes, and as a baby, when he smiled, Annelise swore she could see her long dead love in him. Of course, all notions were ludicrous.  
  
In order for Annelise to keep her identity, as well as that of her children, from the wizarding community, she fashioned herself a glamour. This glamour would cover herself, Hermione and the boy Tom for an unknown number of years until it wore off to revile their true selves. So, in order to look like the natural family they were not, Annelise soon found herself with shoulder-length brown hair and pale blue eyes. Hermione looked similar to her mother, except she had the eyes of her so-called father, Tom being the same. As of now, years later, everything had gone smoothly. Hermione's introduction to the world of magic had been once of equal ignorance from her parents and now that Tom had reached his eleventh year, he was due for his own letter of acceptance from the prestigious school known as Hogwarts. All was well for the Grangers, until a simple mistake ruined it all.  
  
Annelise awoke on the morning of her son's birthday, August seventeenth, with the unsettling feeling of worry in the back of her mind. She rose as per the usual, careful not to wake her sleeping mate, and made her way to the adjacent bathroom. Upon entering, switching on the lights, she looked at her reflection in the mirror with utter horror. The glamour was gone. What once was was no more, and she was Annelise Snape-Riddle once again. Ebony locks trailed down her back in soft ringlets and onyx eyes were wide and frightened. After all, once the glamour was fashioned, Henry knew not the actual appearance of his family. An obliviate charm had taken care of that. Every detail in their home, every picture, every memory, was of a household of brunettes and not that of the prominent wizarding family that Annelise belonged to.  
  
Racing out of the room, down the stairs and into the den, she saw everything changing around her. Pictures of Tom as an infant, of Annelise and Henry on their wedding day, and a formal picture of Hermione as the flower girl morphed to their original forms. Still photographs of Hermione and her friends changed, as did those of the occasional moving photo. Everywhere she looked, there was more proof of the life she once held, and it scared her horribly.  
  
"Mummy!" cried a small voice from upstairs, and Annelise rushed up the single flight to see Tom standing in the hall, toothbrush in hand, dripping peppermint foam onto the hardwood.  
  
"Honey, are you alright?" asked Annelise.  
  
"Yes mummy, but I look different. What's going on?" asked the eleven-year-old.  
  
Before she could answer, there was a cry from her daughter's room, and the door was flung open to revile a beautiful young woman whom Hermione Granger, upon retiring to bed the previous evening, had not been.  
  
"Mum, what is going on? What the hell is happening?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Get downstairs and I will explain everything," The two children nodded and Hermione took her brothers hand and led him to the den.  
  
Once seated on the sofa, Annelise went into her office and took a key from her purse. With a single glance, she placed the small silver key in the hole and opened up the only locked drawer of her desk. Inside, dusty with age, was her wand. She picked it up, feeling the unfamiliar surge of power that she got when touching the finely crafted ash, and left the room, leaving an empty drawer with nothing but a thin outline of dust in her wake.  
  
"I have many things that I must explain to the both of you, and as the glamour has worn off I see this as the appropriate time to do so." Both children gaped at their mother and the elegance in which she spoke.  
  
"Many years ago, my elder brother became involved in the close circle known as the Death Eaters. In doing so he first introduced me to the leader of this circle, Tom Riddle. My brother and I had a difficult decision to make, one that would decide our futures, to be neutral, on the side of light, or the side of dark in times of war. Of course, he chose the dark, and my love for Tom brought me there as well."  
  
"You were in love with Tom Riddle? With V-voldemort? The most hated and despicable man to ever walk this earth!" cried Hermione, outraged at the words that she heard.  
  
"You forget Mia, that this was a time different to this one, and Tom was a different person then,"  
  
Hermione sat back with a frown on her porcelain face. Annelise smiled at her daughter, and continued.  
  
"This occurrence, however, had happened the night of my graduation from Hogwarts, when I pledged my loyalty and love to Tom Riddle. After that, Tom and I soon married, for he was not always a man of power and hatred. He was actually one of love and compassion, and we loved each other more than life itself. No matter the words others said about our marriage, I knew he loved me.  
  
"When I was eighteen years of age, eight months after my marriage to Tom, I was introduced as his wife and queen at a grand ball at Tom's manor, one that he had acquired over the years that held no ties to his family. When I was introduced, I also introduced you, Mia, for you see, by that time I was seven months pregnant with you."  
  
Hermione stared open-mouthed at the woman who she thought she knew everything about. All these years of her life she had thought herself to be the daughter of two dentists, a muggleborn witch, a plain girl in the eyes of the opposite sex. Now, she was the daughter of Lord Voldemort, the dark lord of the wizarding world. She was not a muggleborn, but a pureblood, at least to her knowledge, and she was no longer plain.  
  
"Hermione, a year after you were born, shortly after your first birthday, Tom left me for an evening as he sometimes did. I didn't question, I didn't pry, but rather I let him go and do what he had to do. I never saw him again. That was the night he was to kill Harry Potter, the night the Potter's died and the night when he was lost to me. Aurors attacked and my brother ordered me to leave the manor, with you, and I did. I have never returned and have only been in contact with my brother for the past few years. Since you entered your first year, Mia."  
  
Annelise, by then, was slightly teary and whipped her eyes with the back of her hand. In truth she had been in contact with Severus since Hermione's firth year at Hogwarts. She had gotten all of the wizarding news from him and news about her daughter through the potions master. She had been receiving more and more letters, as well as reciprocating them, after Lord Voldemort's rise two years prior. Tom was back, and she had no way of contacting him. Per Severus' orders, she had remained in hiding, presumed dead by the rest of her family, friends and the entire wizarding world. Up until Hermione entered Hogwarts, she all but was.  
  
"You mean I am the daughter of Lord Voldemort. His child, his one and only child. W-why didn't you ever tell me? Why didn't you say something? Why did you let me go through life believing that I was a mudblood when I clearly wasn't? Why did you do this?" cried Hermione in frustration.  
  
"I did this to protect you and Tom. Tom Riddle shouldn't have died that night for you were too young to fulfill your duties as heir. It wasn't the right time. No one could know you existed, and no one but my brother and I know that either of us are alive." Annelise said.  
  
Hermione paused for a moment, her brow creased with thought. Suddenly, a thought struck her and she looked up at her mother with question. "Who is your brother?"  
  
Annelise smiled. She knew that the reaction of her daughter would not be a pleasant one. After all, she had despised Severus since the moment she had laid eyes on him and that was not going to change with the news of their relation. Although, it might help to soften their relationship.  
  
"The brother I speak of is the second eldest in the family. I am the first-born daughter and my brother Salazar is the eldest and heir. My sister Lenore is the youngest and my brother Severus, is the one that I have been in communication with for the past six years." Annelise waited with bated breath for her daughter's reaction, trying to suppress a smile.  
  
Hermione was going through a range of emotions. From angry, to disgust there was none she did not hit. She was only partly happy, as she new the vial Slytherins would no longer call her mudblood, but to think that she was in any way, shape or form related to the slimy git of a potions master was just too much. He was her uncle, and there was nothing that she could do to reverse that, no matter how much she desired to.  
  
"What about me?" asked Tom, who had been forgotten about in all of the conversation.  
  
"Tom, love, Henry is your father, but you are still a Snape. You have nothing to worry about my darling," said Annelise, earning a grin from her son.  
  
"Mum, what do we do when dad wakes up?" asked Hermione, biting her lip in the habit of which she'd grown accustomed.  
  
Annelise frowned. She had other business to tend to before she could share it with her husband. His explanation would have to wait until a later date. "I want both of you to remain in your rooms until he has gone. I will place a small charm on myself to ensure that he does not notice the disappearance of the glamour. Only come out when I deem it safe," said Annelise.  
  
With an awed nod, the pair left the den and relocated to their rooms where they feigned sleep until their father had gone. Downstairs, Annelise cast a charm and hid her wand in a kitchen drawer next to the steel ladle and salad tongs. Within minutes, Henry had awoken, dressed and come downstairs to greet his wife and children. However, being the summer holidays, he assumed that they might still be off in the land of dreams.  
  
"Morning," said Henry, walking into the kitchen and kissing his wife's cheek.  
  
"Good morning," Annelise returned, smiling at him in such a way that Henry thought he was twenty again and head-over-heels in love with the beautiful stranger.  
  
"I have to be at the office today for a few appointments. I know, horrible on our own son's birthday, but it has to be done. Do you think you could hold off on the celebration for when I get home? I can handle all this on my own." Henry informed.  
  
"Of course. Tom wouldn't want you to miss his eleventh birthday," said Annelise, smiling once again.  
  
"I'll see you when I get home. Tell the children good-bye for me and a happy birthday for Tom," said Henry, disappearing moments later out the front door.  
  
Annelise waited until Henry had driven away in the station wagon before waking the children. Some time later, the trio were dressed and seated in the den facing the brick fireplace. Annelise was scribbling on a sheet of parchment with a blue quill, floo powder by her side. Once she was done, she folded it up, scrawled her brother's name and lit and fire with a few words and a wand wave. Throwing a pinch of powder into the flames, she called out Severus' quarters at Hogwarts and tossed the letter into it, the parchment disappearing within seconds.  
  
"What did you say mum?" asked Hermione, seated on the sofa once more, trying to avoid her brother slurping chocolate milk in the vicinity of her ear.  
  
"Be patient," was all Annelise said.  
  
At once, a dark figure emerged from the flames, growing with each step he took. Soon, the figure of Severus Snape stepped out of the fire and brushed soot off his pristine robes. The letter was in his pocket and he looked his normal, surly self, but upon seeing his sister, his face broke into a smile.  
  
"Anna," said Severus, gathering his sister into a hug right before Hermione's very eyes.  
  
"Severus, it's been too long," said Annelise. Even letters couldn't replace seeing her brother in person.  
  
"Now what, pray tell, is so important that you have called me over here at this time of the morning?" asked Severus, breaking the hug.  
  
"The glamour wore off. Hermione and Tom know everything," said Annelise, smiling sheepishly.  
  
Severus held his sister at arms length and looked at her, then looked at Hermione, whose transformation was far more shocking than he could have predicted. "Well, so it has," was all he said.  
  
"Severus, what are we going to do when Hermione returns to Hogwarts? What will happen when Tom leaves? He cannot carry the name of Granger looking like a completely different person, and neither can she. Something has to be done," said Annelise with worry.  
  
"Has Tom received his letter yet?" Severus' brows were knitted together in concentration.  
  
"No, not yet," said Annelise.  
  
"He will. There isn't enough muggle in him to make him a squib," Severus began to pace. "We could conjure another glamour, one that would last only a years time and then can be replaced over the summer months. Or,"  
  
"Or what, Severus,"  
  
"Or we could leave them exactly as they are. No one knows Tom, so he will not be thought any different. Hermione, however will have slightly more difficulty, especially with those friends of hers." said Severus.  
  
"That is a possibility. We could change Tom's surname to Snape and then there will be no question. After all, he does appear similar to you," said Annelise.  
  
"If that is the case I would have to inform the headmaster, but what about Hermione?" said Severus.  
  
"Um, excuse me, mum, professor, but we're sitting right here. Wouldn't it be better to talk to us about it?" Hermione interrupted.  
  
"Ah yes, that would be somewhat better. Don't you think so Severus?" said Anneilse with a smirk.  
  
"Um, yes, I suppose so," mumbled Severus.  
  
The four reconvened to the kitchen table and continued their discussion about what to do with Annelise's children. In the end, they settled on the following: Tom would be known as Tom Snape, Severus' nephew, and would go through his schooling as such. Hermione would wear a temporary glamour that would have to be re-applied at Christmas. Only when all was safe, when the war was over, would the glamour be removed and the truth told. Until that time, she was to remain Hermione Granger, nothing more.  
  
"Now that that is settled, what say we start with proper introductions? Severus, these are my children Hermione and Tom, children, this is my brother and your uncle Severus." Annelise said, motioning to each one in turn.  
  
"I believe Hermione and I have already been introduced Anna," scowled Severus.  
  
"And it was not pleasant," said Hermione glaring at her professor.  
  
"Now now, both of you, just because you have had some bad history which I can't for the life of me assume why, doesn't mean you cannot put aside your differences and re-start your relationship as not just teacher and students, but uncle and niece," said Annelise.  
  
Hermione laughed, "And call him uncle? No thank you," she said.  
  
"My sentiments exactly," mumbled Severus menacingly.  
  
"Severus Snape you will not treat these children as if they are the so-called lowly students that you are forced to educate. Please, put some effort into getting to know my children outside of a Hogwarts setting," said Annelise, who did not take kindly to the tones of her brother and daughter.  
  
"Anna, if I must," said Severus, arms crossed.  
  
"Mum, I am only doing this because I love you," mumbled Hermione, deeply displeased.  
  
Annelise smiled. Even if they were to be civil to each other only to please her, it was enough. An effort was all she asked for.  
  
"Oh, before I forget, happy birthday darling," Annelise smile, pulling Tom out of his chair and into a hug.  
  
"Thank you mummy," said Tom, though his mother's grip was quite crushing.  
  
"Yes, happy birthday kiddo," said Hermione, hugging him as well.  
  
"That's right, it is your birthday. Must have slipped my mind," said Severus, eyeing Annelise who blushed under his gaze.  
  
In accordance to the eleventh birthday of every magical child, a great owl swooped in through the open kitchen window. He landed, dropped two letters onto the table and flew off once more into the mid morning. Annelise picked up each, reading the names written in glittering emerald ink. After a moment or two, she handed the letters to her children, each receiving one. The pair scanned them over and, as odd as it may seem, their breath caught in their throats.  
  
"I got in! I'm going to Hogwarts!" cried Tom, bounding over to his mother and hugging her fiercely.  
  
"Congratulations Tom, that's wonderful," said Annelise, returning the gesture.  
  
  
  
As Tom leapt off walls and danced around the room in happiness, Hermione sat in her seat as quiet as the dead. Her letter was clutched in her hands and a look of utter shock and bewilderment rested upon her face. Severus had his head bowed, not meeting the eyes of his family, but if one looked closely, they could see the beginnings of a smile on his normally solemn face.  
  
"Mia, darling, what is it?" asked Annelise with worry.  
  
"I did it. I'm Head Girl," said Hermione in something akin to a whisper.  
  
"You did?" said Annelise, her smile growing.  
  
Hermione nodded her head and Annelise, in a very unladylike fashion, jumped out of her chair and hugged her daughter until the girl was beginning to develop a need for oxygen. Tom, despite knowing the meaning of her words, hugged his sister as well. Severus, however, remained seated, shaking with silent laughter, which was a rarity.  
  
Annelise looked over to her brother and frowned, "Did you know about this?" she asked.  
  
Severus nodded his head and fought back the unyielding urge to laugh out load. When the time had come to choose the Heads of the student body for the next year, Hermione had been the obvious choice. The entire staff, including Severus himself, had been very pleased with the decision, as Hermione was an exceptional student, wise beyond her years. Indeed, it had taken most of his restraint, finely honed over the years, to not tell Annelise and Hermione outright. Now that they knew, there was little point in hiding his feelings akin to that of a proud parent.  
  
"How long?" asked Annelise.  
  
"Albus, as per the usual, asks each member of the staff whom they would recommend. Despite my feelings for Hermione, I chose her as a suitable candidate. In other words, a month or so," said Severus, breathing deeply so as not to break the usual calm exterior in front of his niece and nephew in only minutes of their meeting.  
  
"Severus, last I spoke to you it was the middle of July. Why, pray tell, did you withhold this information from me?" asked Annelise.  
  
"Simple Anna; you would enjoy nothing more than to tell Hermione early, and that would spoil the surprise of which I have just been witness," said Severus, smiling at her.  
  
"Sev, how could you think I would have ruined it?"  
  
"Oh yes, very wrong of me. I can picture you now, quietly holding the information that Hermione has longed for during her entire Hogwarts career. You're right, I should have told you," Severus drawled sarcastically.  
  
Annelise glared at the man, more upset at how well he knew her than the situation itself. He was right, she would have told Hermione if she had been privy to the information before this moment. Oh how she hated that.  
  
"Speaking of Albus, he has informed me that for the remainder of the holidays, Hermione is to go to Grimmauld Place to stay with Potter and the Weasleys. For protection until she returns to school." Severus informed them.  
  
"When do I leave?" asked Hermione quietly.  
  
"You are to be there no later than the end of the week," said Severus.  
  
"Mum," said Hermione, who needed a fixed date, not some time frame.  
  
"We can purchase your school things tomorrow, as well as Tom's, and you can leave the day after if you like," said Annelise, forlorn at the news that her daughter was leaving her. She had so much to tell her.  
  
"How about the day after that mum? I would like to stay here a little while longer," said Hermione, trying not to sound like a child who wants to remain with it's parents until it is forced to leave.  
  
"That sounds wonderful," Annelise smiled. "But remember, I will see you at the station on the first."  
  
Hermione nodded and glanced at her uncle, who had conjured a piece of parchment and a quill and was scribbling furiously.  
  
  
  
"Anna, do you think you can perform the glamour yourself?" asked Severus.  
  
"Yes,"  
  
"Alright, I must speak with the headmaster. I'll owl you this evening to give you further details." With that, Severus rose from the table and walked into the living room, the others trailing behind.  
  
"Goodbye Sev," said Annelise, embracing her brother.  
  
"Bye Anna, I'll owl you as soon as everything is settled," said Severus.  
  
"Goodbye professor," said Hermione.  
  
"Hermione, if you have not already noticed, I have dropped the formalities. Please try and do the same when we are not at school," said Severus in his usual manner.  
  
Hermione scowled, "Alright, uncle,"  
  
In a display that caught Severus completely off guard, Tom moved forward and hugged him. Unlike most, Tom was an affectionate child, and through the brief visit between Severus and the Grangers, he had begun to like him. Of course, Tom hadn't had any aunts or uncles since birth, as Henry was an only child, so this sudden appearance of family was something he favoured.  
  
"Bye Uncle Sev," said Tom, breaking away from his shocked uncle.  
  
"Um, goodbye Tom," said Severus, smiling nervously at the boy.  
  
With that Severus threw a pinch of floo powder into the still lit flames and walked in, flooing himself to his office. After he was gone Annelise put out the fire, hid her wand and set about making breakfast and going over her children's lists of school items. However, Tom and Hermione were not so easily distracted and began the long and tiresome process of questioning Annelise about the past they never knew.  
  
A/N: I know, I rushed it a bit, but I just wanted to get it out of the way so that the rest of the story can continue. In reference to the formality of the Snapes, I thought that families of higher class, the Malfoy's, Snapes, etc, would be quite formal and proper to each other and speak somewhat differently than the average wizard. They are the aristocratic part of wizarding society.  
  
Also, since I'm back in school now, chapters for all fics will not be getting out at rapid speeds. For instance, I had nothing to do this weekend, so I finished the prologue and wrote the second chapter of Riddle. Other times I might focus on CFFG, the ninth chapter being in progress as we speak, or ESLO, which also has an unfinished chapter in the works. Just to tell you, with these three projects plus schoolwork, social life and sleeping and eating, fics will take longer to update. I'm sorry.  
  
Thank you's:  
  
chalkolatte- thank you! I've been trying to update my writing style, and if you compare this fic, ESLO and possibly CFFG to my previous stories you will see a drastic difference.  
  
DanishGirl- thank you!  
  
Banana Flavored Eskimo- thank you, and as I said before in the prologue, I know this has been done before. What can I say, I've been bitten by the Snape bug and now I want to write a fic that centers on him and his family. The plotline will change don't worry. I promise. By the way, I love your fic!  
  
Dream Serpent- thank you! As you can see, I've updated.  
  
paprika90- thank you! 


	3. Chapter 2:Photo Albums

A/N: I told you they wouldn't be up all too soon. So, as I have nothing else to do, here is chapter three! Please review!  
  
Hermione awoke slowly following day in the mind that it had all been a dream, a horrible dream. She was not Hermione Riddle, the beautiful raven vixen, but rather plain and unbecoming Hermione Granger. There was nothing extraordinary about her minus the fact that she was a witch. She was the daughter of dentists, had a younger brother who was in awed adoration of her and her powers, and was the best friend of the famous Harry Potter, defender of the wizarding world and hero to all. Of course, as with all wishes of this kind, once she had rose from her bed and cast a glance at the mirror above her vanity, the truth made itself known. Starring back at her from across the room was a beautiful girl with long ebony hair. Loving onyx eyes ran over her new form which was now blossoming and lithe. The skin, which had once been tan and uneven, was now snow-like and delicate to the touch. She was practically perfect, she was radiant and she was everything that she had previously thought she would never be. Hermione really was her mothers' daughter.  
  
"Mia, love, you must hurry or we'll be late for shopping," called Annelise from downstairs, breakfast lying in wait on the kitchen table.  
  
"Coming mum," Hermione called back.   
  
Despite of all she had been told, of her mother's classical upbringing and of her family life, Hermione had still to adjust to the formality and elegance in which her mother spoke. Before the previous day Annelise Granger had spoken with the air of a person of little importance. She had been a simple, non-magical person who had a rather dull life, despite her children's comings and goings. As of present, Annelise had slipped back into her old way of speech and whenever her husband had left the house, even for a moment or two, her almost regal air resurfaced.  
  
Hermione dressed quickly and walked down stairs to find her mother and brother already waiting for her. Tom had finished his second helping of buttermilk pancakes and was eyeing Hermione's own full plate. Annelise sipped tea out of a china mug quietly at one corner of the table. She was merely playing the observer, as she had taken to doing since the revelation of her past, so as to check the stability of her children. After all, she did not want to cause her children any mental harm, as the news had come as both a shock and an adjustment.  
  
"Mynee, eat faster! I want to go shopping!" whined Tom impatiently.  
  
"Hold on a second. I'll only be a moment," said Hermione, chewing her pancakes slowly so as to annoy her brother further.  
  
"Mynee!" cried Tom, not amused by her antics.  
  
"Tom, be patient with your sister. Unlike you she did not rise at the crack of dawn," said Annelise calmly.  
  
Tom frowned at his mother before rising from the table to go and put his shoes on in the hallway. Hermione finished eating minutes later, and once ten minutes had passed the trio were in the small Honda civic and on their way to London. It was but an hour before they had arrived at the correct location, and situated beside a used bookshop and a café, squished between the two, was the Leaky Cauldron, their destination. Hermione, Annelise and Tom walked into the building, glamour's firmly in place for the pair formerly mentioned, and made their way to the back of the pub. Situated behind a door sat a lowly dustbin and a large brick wall that was in dire need of repair. What may not look like much to the muggle eye was actually the gateway to the wizarding world, to the place named Diagon Alley, which held everything a wizard or witch in training might desire.  
  
"Now, I want no mention of anything that has been spoken over the past day to anyone. Hermione, neither Harry nor Ron are to even have the slightest inkling of who you truly are. Tom, nothing shall be told to any friends you will make at school. Understood?" instructed Annelise, looking at bother her children.  
  
"Yes mum," said Tom.  
  
"Yes mum," said Hermione.  
  
"Good. Shall we?" said Annelise, motioning to the wall.  
  
"Oh, yes," said Hermione, blushing as she pulled out her wand.  
  
Hermione made the necessary taps and at once the bricks began to form an archway, the gateway to the aforementioned alley. Once each brick was set in it's proper place, the bustling streets of Diagon Alley were reviled and the trio carefully pushed and pulled their way through the crowed to Ollivanders Wand Shop. Mr Ollivander, handed down to him through the generations, owned the shop. Annelise's own wand had been purchased here when she had been a child, when she had been too young and innocent to know of the dark. Her elder brother's had watched with curiosity as their sister picked up her first wand, destroying several items in the store upon doing so. It had taken possibly two hours before the right wand had been chosen, and in doing so she had begun her journey in the world of educational magic.  
  
"Ah, Miss Granger, willow, ten and a half inches, unicorn hair if I'm not mistaken," said Ollivander upon their entering.  
  
Hermione nodded, blushing a little, "Um, yes. We're here for my brother. He got his owl just yesterday," she said.  
  
"Ah yes, another muggleborn. Hogwarts could use another Granger," said Ollivander, smiling to the group before walking to the back of the shop.  
  
The elderly man came back moments later with a long olive box with him. He opened it, took out the oak wand and handed it to Tom.   
  
"Oak, nine inches, dragon heart string," said Ollivander.  
  
Tom waved the wand, immediately destroying a glass vase, which held a bundle of dying orchids in its dry cavity. At once Ollivander plucked the wand from his shaking hand and deposited it back in the box. The man disappeared for a minute or two before returning with a plum box, this time with a chestnut wand within it.  
  
"Chestnut, eleven and a half inches, hippogriff feather," said Ollivander. "Give it a wave, that's it,"  
  
Tom once again waved the wand, sending out a small sputter of pitiful sparks before it knocked Mr Ollivander's ledger off his desk. As before, the wand was taken out of his grasp. For a third time, Ollivander disappeared into the caverns of his shop and returned ten minutes later with a dusty and worn looking blue box, the colour which had once-upon-a-time resembled navy.  
  
"Now, try this one. Beech, nine and a half inches, phoenix tail feather," said Ollivander.  
  
Tom waved the wand, a little hesitant at the notion of what this action could do, but instead of further destruction, there was a calm and soothing light. The light circled Tom and his family and filled the entire shop before fading into the dust-filled air. As nothing had blown up, Tom had a large grin on his face, and faced his mother and sister with a look of glee on his lips.  
  
"Nothing broke!" he cried.  
  
"No, love, nothing did brake. That's your wand now," said Annelise, taking it from him and placing it back in the box. "However you mustn't play with it. A wand is not a toy."  
  
Annelise paid for the wand and the trio left the shop bag in hand. From there they journeyed to Flourish and Blotts to purchase schoolbooks, however upon entering, they caught the eye of a rather plump redhead whom Annelise had only met on four previous occasions. The woman, who had been picking out a rather large amount of books, waved to them and walked over to them.  
  
"Hermione, how good to see you dear," said the redhead.  
  
"Hello Mrs Weasley," said Hermione, always the polite child.  
  
"Don't be silly dear, call me Molly. How are you?" said Mrs Weasley.  
  
"I'm fine. We're just getting my school things. Are you getting Harry and Ron's?" said Hermione, making no mention of Tom. After all, she was not supposed to have a brother, especially one who was to be introduced as a Snape. Luckily, the boy had wandered off to look at transfiguration books and paid no heed to the conversation.  
  
"Yes I am. You know the boys can't leave the house, what with, everything. I'm getting Ginny's things as well. Oh, I'm sorry, hello, Annelise is it?" said Mrs Weasley in a rush.  
  
"Yes, hello Molly," said Annelise quietly. She had nothing against the woman, it was just the fact that for so many years she had been on the side Molly Weasley and her group were trying to destroy.  
  
"Well, I should leave you to your shopping. I have everything I need now, what with Fred and George out of school. I'll see you in a few days Hermione," said Mrs Weasley, walking off to the register.  
  
Annelise smiled and then ushered Hermione over to Tom, who had already chosen many of the books on his list. The rest of the shopping in that particular shop went by quite smoothly, only a few extra bits of reading material sneaking into the rather large stacks that had accumulated during the time spent in Flourish and Blotts. Once they had exited the shop, the trio made their way over to Madam Malkins Robes for All Occasions, and then to many other shops, which contained the items, needed for the school year.  
  
All went rather swimmingly, all except a brief encounter with the Malfoy males. Brief as it was it left a lasting imprint of worry in Annelise's mind and not long after would she wonder if Lucius Malfoy knew exactly who she was. It occurred on their way back to the Leakey Cauldron, when they were pushing their way through the crowd that had formed since their entrance to the magical shopping centre. Annelise, Hermione and Tom were elbowing their way through the stifling crowd of people when Hermione, rather violently, knocked into someone. That someone was Draco Malfoy, and as soon as their eyes met, grey on brown, the customary glares were set in place and they stopped.  
  
"Watch where you're going Granger. You just about soiled my robes with your Mudblood filth," said Draco, sneering at her with utter hatred.  
  
"I wouldn't worry Malfoy, I have no intention of touching your robes again in future," said Hermione, returning the searing look.  
  
"Draco, why on earth are you conversing with this muggleborn? Come, we have things to do," said Lucius, placing the top of his walking stick on his sons shoulder.  
  
"Hermione, darling, it's getting late, we must return home before your father arrives," said Annelise, standing behind her daughter.  
  
It was almost eerie in the way they stood, the two adults behind their children who bore equal hatred for all on the opposing side. However whilst Hermione and Draco glared and sneered, Annelise and Lucius studied each other. Annelise saw that the elder Malfoy was exactly the same as he had been since she had last seen him, five years prior. He had a few more wrinkles, to be sure, but he held the same long blonde hair and pale features that he had past onto his son, as well as his contempt for the muggle world. Lucius, on the other hand, saw something in Annelise that he had never had the chance to see before. Their first encounter in Flourish and Blotts during their children's second year had been short and had been only a glance. This time, however, he had a chance to look at the mother of the girl who outstripped his son in every study. Before they moved, being pulled along by they children who did not want to be in the others presence for much longer, he saw a power, elegance in Annelise that reminded him of the one his lord had lost so long ago. The woman who held with her the heir to the dark throne.  
  
"Tom dear, let's go," said Annelise, and as they fled the alley, they left a rather puzzled Lucius and a curious Ollivander behind.  
  
*  
  
"Has everything been arraigned Albus?" asked Severus, sitting across from the headmaster.  
  
"Yes Severus. The needed adjustment to the sorting scroll and the attendance sheets has been made. There is no need to worry," said Albus Dumbledore, hands clasped firmly in front of him.  
  
"I understand but I do worry. This is the safety of my family that we are meddling with. I do not want any fault found, Albus," said Severus firmly, eyes hard.  
  
"Severus, I take great care in everything I do. The safety of your sister and her children is no exception. Please, have faith," Albus assured.  
  
"Faith is something that means very little to me," said Severus, his eyes moving away from the caring old man.  
  
"That is a very cynical view of things Severus. Everyone has faith in something, be it a religion or a single person. For example, most of the wizarding world has faith in Harry Potter and his ability to escape the Dark Lord," said Albus.  
  
"Please, do not drag Potter into this conversation," Severus breathed in annoyance.  
  
"Mr Potter is only an example. What I am asking is for you to place the little faith you have in me. I will not fail you Severus. You have never failed me before," said Albus with a smile and a twinkle of his wise blue eyes.  
  
Severus nodded and sighed heavily, "Albus, I have faith in you. It's just,"  
  
"You do not want anything else to separate yourself and your sister. If an occurrence similar to that of previous years happened you would lose your sister for a second time. Severus, I will do everything in my power to make sure that that never happens again." Albus said, always the wise and knowledgeable one.  
  
Severus nodded once again and slumped back in his chair. Albus was right. He did not want to be separated from Annelise like he had years before. When he had sent her away, he would have assumed she would have gone to their parents or to some other relative, instead she was found wandering aimlessly along a muggle road. He had lost complete contact with her until he saw Hermione in her first year. Of course, a glamour had carefully hid any features akin to his own, but her name was defiantly not at all common. It had taken many owls to finally locate her, and at that moment he had never felt so joyous in his entire life. Since then he had been in contact with her, had only just been able to hold her in his arms the previous day, and to have that stripped away from him once more would be utter hell.  
  
"I'll be in my office if you need me again Albus. Good day," bid Severus, rising and leaving the office.  
  
"Good day Severus," Albus said, just as the potions master closed the door behind him.  
  
Severus walked down to the cold and desolate regions that were the dungeons and down to his office. It wasn't the most comforting of places, certainly there were much more enjoyable ones located somewhat farther above ground, but this was his home. During his time at Hogwarts this was where he graded papers and made out lesson plans. Where students came for detention assignments and were frightened out of where wits by the many fermented objects in jars around the office walls. His was possibly the most gruesome office in all of Hogwarts and the least pleasant to be in, but it was his none the less, and it was home.  
  
Severus slowly made his way to the back of the room and in doing so removed his wand from his pocket. Carefully he taped the highest drawer on the left of his desk and whispered a few words under his breath, so faint that not even the wind would pick it up. With a small click that drawer opened and Severus reached inside. Within it's dusty and decaying depths lied a leather bound photo album. Contained in this album were all of the memories of his childhood, adolescence and early adulthood. Every photo had been carefully place in a specific order and labelled with extreme care. However, the album had not been opened and gazed on for many a year and so the pages were yellowing and the binding cracked. In a moment of nostalgia Severus had decided to relive his memories.  
  
Opening the album to the first page, he laid eyes on four infant photos. The first was of a boy, gazing at a Christmas bulb with wide-eyed wonder; scrawled underneath in perfect lettering were the words 'Salazar Archimedes Snape'. The second was also of a boy, one who was sitting in his mothers lap, head resting on her tender arm. As with the first, underneath the photo were the words 'Severus Demetrius Snape'. The next was of a girl, the first daughter of the Snape family. She was lying in her cradle in blissful slumber, arms resting above her head, the words 'Annelise Elizabeth Snape' written beneath the fading photo. The final picture on this particular page was of the youngest child of the Snapes, a girl who was resting in the arms of Salazar, holding her elder brothers hand. 'Lenore Helena Snape' written below.  
  
Even at this somewhat simple page Severus began to feel a stinging in his eyes. Small, almost miniscule tears had begun to form in the corners of his dark eyes, soon falling along his pale cheeks. The four of them, there in the most innocent stages of life were unmarred by darkness, by hurt or death. They had no worries except the simple ones common to infancy, and they had each other most of all. Severus remembered, in not at all clear detail, what those times had been like, so carefree and innocent. As of now the innocence was gone, replaced by dark decisions and painful memories. If he could go back and change it all, his becoming and Death Eater and the pain he had caused others. If he could recapture the time spent with his sister, reclaim the time they had lost together, he would treasure it as if it was the most precious of jewels.  
  
"I will never lose you again Anna, not now, not ever," he whispered, whipping away the tears and closing the album.  
  
Instead of flipping through the many aging pages Severus placed the album in the drawer, closed and locked it once again. Hopefully, in the not to distant future, when all horror and been eliminated and all was safe and peace reigned supreme, he would open it again and be able to look at his memories with happiness rather than tears.  
  
A/N: I know, rather sappy ending, but hey, I like it and it ties in with the story. I doesn't hurt to have a little bit of Severus angst does it? Didn't think so. Anyway, please review!!!  
  
Thank you's:  
  
chalkolatte- thank you! Well, many people use glamours in their stories and I thought, what the hell, might as well use the concept once. Anyway, I'm glad you like it.  
  
Haldirs-Wife- thank you!  
  
DanishGirl- thank you! I know it took awhile to update, but I've been super busy, trust me.  
  
paprika90- thank you!  
  
daggairune- thank you! I'm glad you said that because I was wondering if any of the characters were acting OOC. 


	4. Chapter 3:Number 12 Grimmauld Place

A/N: Here's the next chapter! I hope you like it and will review!!!  
  
As with every departure from the Granger home, trunks were packed and lined in the hallway, Crookshanks in his worn wicker basket and the family was gathered by the door, waiting patiently for whomever it was to arrive and take Hermione to Grimmauld Place. The glamour's of Hermione and Annelise had been placed and double checked for any imperfections, and Henry was still absolutely oblivious to it all. Not to say that it was a good thing, it just made things easier for everyone, and easier for the poor man to live in blissful ignorance until this war was over.  
  
"I'll see you at the train station sweetie, when I drop Tom off," said Annelise, her husband's arm around her waist.  
  
"Yeah mum, I know," said Hermione, her voice small. There was so much more that she wanted to know, that her mother could have shared with her in a longer period of time, but now she was to leave the only source of her past behind and with it all the answers to her questions.  
  
"I'm going to miss you Mynee," said Tom, his voice also low.  
  
"I'll see you at the station, and at school. Don't worry, I won't be gone long," said Hermione, hugging her younger brother.  
  
It was but a minute before the doorbell rang and reviled Severus Snape, dressed in his customary black, wand tucked safely in his sleeve. Of course, despite the wishes of others, mainly Molly Weasley, he had volunteered to come and collect Hermione. During the conversations he had had with the redhead, he had tried to look his normal, sullen and ill-tempered self rather than the joyful man he was inside upon even a glance at his sister. As of present, it took most of his self-control to not hug her then and there and drag her back to Grimmauld Place with him and her daughter.  
  
"Hello Mr Granger, Mrs Granger. I have come to collect Hermione on Albus Dumbledore's request," said Severus, stepping inside the rather normal home for the second time.  
  
"Hello professor," said Hermione, eyes on the floor and Crookshanks in her arms.  
  
"Miss Granger," said Severus, tilting his head to his niece. "Albus requests you be at Grimmauld Place no later than two, and as seeing as we have but ten minutes, I suggest we hurry."  
  
"Yes professor," said Hermione gathering the rest of her things and going out the door.  
  
"Good day," said Severus, nodding to the remaining family before following his top student out the door.  
  
"Good day," said Annelise before he had shut the door, smiling at her elder brother.  
  
Once outside, the warm summer breeze blowing around the uncle and niece, Severus began to lead Hermione down the road to an unfinished construction site. The workers who had formerly spent laborious hours under the scorching sun building walls and supports had the day off and so the site, littered with forgotten tools and piles of pine two-by-fours was a perfect place for Severus to apparate them to Grimmauld Place.  
  
"Um, professor, why are we here?" asked Hermione, dragging her trunk behind her.  
  
"Because, Miss Granger, we need a suitable cover for our apparation. It is not in our best interests to be seen by muggles," Severus explained.  
  
"Oh," said Hermione, nodding her head in understanding.  
  
Severus led her to the very back of the construction site where a cement mixer, incrusted with the pale sludge, blocked the view just enough so that any passing muggles would not catch their departure. Severus picked up on end of Hermione's trunk, making sure both himself and the sixteen-year-old had a firm grip on the brass handle. Carefully he placed a hand on her upper arm, grasping it in his pale fingers. To his surprise, Hermione was never fazed by this act. Of course, a witch of her calibre would have obviously known about the contact, no matter how small, of two parties in order for the apparation process to occur properly.  
  
"Ready?" he asked, eyeing her carefully.  
  
Hermione nodded, obviously unhappy with what was about to happen. Severus could see that she wanted more time with her mother; to know everything about the world she had never been privy to. This information Severus could not give her, as of moments from now she would be carried off by her friends and any moments they would have alone together would not be for shared secrets.  
  
"You must remember that no one, not Potter, not Weasley, not anyone is to know who you truly are and who your family really is. You are to not know Tom as anything but a simple first year and I am nothing but your professor, understood?" Severus instructed.  
  
"Mum told my this already. I won't tell anyone, I promise," said Hermione, getting a better grip on Crookshanks' basket.  
  
Severus nodded and tightened his grip on the girl. Carefully, taking a deep breath, he pictured the front hall of number twelve Grimmauld Place. He pictured it's dust-coated floor boards and it's peeling wallpaper, the portrait of Mrs Black hidden behind the heavy velvet curtain and the decrepit stairs that were rotting from the inside. At once he felt the familiar tug on his hair and the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach began to surface. However, after a moment or two, it passed and upon opening his eyes Severus found himself in the front hall of Grimmauld Place. Looking down he found Hermione breathing deeply, the affects of apparation were not something the young girl had experienced previously, and so the look of sickness upon her face was understandable.  
  
"Miss Granger, we have arrived," said Severus, setting down his side of the trunk and letting go of her arm.  
  
"Oh, yes, so we are," said Hermione, slowly opening her eyes and gazing around the once magnificent home.  
  
Severus took one last glance at his niece; her solemn and depressed look of that of a kicked puppy. She had been taken from the few people who knew the truth about who she was, and now, once Severus left for Hogwarts and further torturous Death Eater meetings she would be all alone with her plight; of being Voldemort's daughter. He silently wished that Potter and Weasley, who were so overprotective of the girl and so judgemental of both new information and people, were no longer in this home and it was just himself and Hermione. He would be alone to tell her everything, to bare the truth that he had kept for so long. However, the truth of the matter was, the boys were blundering down the stairs and the peaceful moment that had been their arrival would be shattered.  
  
"Good-day, Miss Granger. Have a pleasant stay," said Severus, leaving the room in search of Molly Weasley.  
  
"Good-day," whispered Hermione, and as Severus left, if his ears didn't deceive him, she had called him uncle.  
  
"Hermione! You're here!" cried Ron, jumping the last few steps.  
  
Hermione nodded and smiled, hoping that they wouldn't notice her sadness and wouldn't question if they did. She had a promise to keep, after all, and she would do all in her power to make sure that it was kept. Slowly, turning towards the boys, she gave them a small smile each and hugged them both. They happily helped her with her trunk and Hermione let Crookshanks out of his wicker confinement. They led her up to the room she shared with Ginny, the one across from that shared by the two boys. At present there were few other occupants in the home, the elder Weasley's were in the kitchen talking with Remus Lupin and Nympradora Tonks about the most recent Death Eater attacks in hushed voices so that prying ears would not overhear things that did not concern them. Ginny was busy in the den doing homework, the young redhead had procrastinated throughout the summer holidays and was now catching up. The rest of the Weasley clan were not present at this particular place of residence, but rather in different parts of Britain and the globe in general. Keeping track of the vanishing children was becoming seemingly more difficult.  
  
"Thank you Harry, Ron," said Hermione as her two friends placed her trunk at the bottom of her bed.  
  
"No problem," said Harry, smiling at her as she took a seat on the rather dusty mattress.  
  
Hermione ran her had carefully over the cotton blanket that covered that stained and decaying mattress. She picked absentmindedly at a piece of lint that came within her reach. She was unaware of the gazes her friends shared at her movements and continued to touch the fraying grey cotton with a feather-like touch. She could not count the times she had lied in this bed, listening to the frantic movements of the more experienced wizards about the house. The whispered conversations in the halls and the distinct footfalls of those who watched over the under-aged wizards were never more than a few feet away from her door. The times she had been set in this bed with a broken arm or leg from a recent attack that she and her friends had foolishly barged into were all emblazoned in her mind, but as of now, it was of little importance and seemed so small in the grand scheme of things. Of course, it would to a person whose whole life had been turned upside down within a matter of days. Everything she had thought was true was in fact a boldfaced lie. Her mother had lied to her for more than ten years, withholding truth that Hermione would have so loved to know. Of course, once that truth had been shared Hermione had chided herself on not being able to see the signs sooner. Annelise had not been as shocked and frightened as Henry had upon Hermione receiving her Hogwarts letter six years prior, nor had her reaction to the world of magic been so squeamish and worried. She had put on the carefully crafted façade, of course, but if she had just looked closer, had studied her more, Hermione would have seen the calm and almost wistful look on her mothers face. She would have seen that her mother was finally returning to the world she had left behind and the one she belonged to.  
  
"Hermione, are you all right?" asked Harry, looking at her with his head cocked to one side.  
  
"Oh yes, I'm fine. I just can't believe how much I've missed this place," she lied, smiling at him.  
  
"Yes, who could miss this place? The cockroaches and inches of dust make this place downright homey," said Ron, not even trying to his the sarcasm in his voice.  
  
The trio suddenly went silent. It had been a little over a year since the death of the beloved Sirius Black, the owner of this home and the only decent parental figure in Harry's life. To the poor emerald-eyed boy this had been his home during the brief time Sirius had been with him. The house was now in his name, but a customary visit to his aunt and uncles once a year was necessary and so not all of his time was spent at the dilapidated residence. After finally coming out of her dream-like state Hermione finally noticed the changes that had occurred in her two best friends. Harry's features were more hardened then they had been, his physique taller, broader but still horribly thin. Ron was as tall as ever, his trousers barely reaching the tops of his trainers; of course, shocking red hair was still in place but fewer freckles were present. Hermione thought she had changed little during the beginning of the second war. While others became dead to everyone but those close to them, Hermione closed herself off into the world of books and to the muggle world she so loved. She was the brains, not the brawn, and so her own physique had changed little, until recent. The glamour was that of a plain young woman who looked out of place in any setting but that of a library. She would look better wearing wire glasses and a drab grey suit than a flowery dress that would appeal to her true figure. War had changed them all, and not for the better. War would continue to change them, and Hermione knew that the path to victory would not go smoothly.  
  
"Oh Hermione dear, you're here. Severus just told me. How are you?" asked Mrs Weasley who had promptly walked into the room and gathered the rather surprised girl in a hug.  
  
"I'm fine Mrs Weasley," said Hermione.  
  
"Now, please wash up and come help me with dinner preparations. Alastor should be here soon," said Mrs Weasley, walking out of the room and back downstairs.  
  
"Well, I guess we should go help mum," said Ron, leading the way out of the room.  
  
"Yes," replied Hermione following suit.  
  
While the short walked downstairs should have taken mere minutes, the trio were sidetracked by a certain redheaded sixteen-year-old and were thankfully forced to postpone any notions of dinner help. Ginny, schoolwork finished and carefully tucked in her leather bag, walked out of the den to spy her elder brother and his two friends making their way down the stairs. Of course, having not even heard Hermione's arrival, she wasn't going to let them walked away from her so easily. Smirking to herself, she leaped at Hermione and gathered her in a hug, squeezing the life out of her.  
  
"No one told me you were here! I'm so happy to see you! How horrible was it to have Snape pick you up?" said Ginny, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"I missed you Gin, and it wasn't that bad having Snape come and get me. He just isn't one for conversation," said Hermione, smiling at her only true female friend.  
  
"Well, that's Snape isn't it?" said Ginny, smiling. "So, did you get it?"  
  
"Did she get what?" asked Ron with slight annoyance at his little sister. Patience was never quite his forte.  
  
"Yes I did," said Hermione proudly.  
  
With those words Ginny squealed and launched herself at her friend, hugging her tightly. After all, being Head Girl was something that the brunette had strived for since the second she stepped off the Hogwarts Express. She had studied furiously, gone the extra limit on all assignments and essays and practically moved into the library in her quest for the title of Head Girl. Now it was finally here, and Ginny couldn't have been happier for her friend.  
  
"Yes you did what?" asked Ron again, being his normal dense and unperceptive self.  
  
"Oh honestly, she made Head Girl," said Ginny with exasperation.  
  
"Congratulations 'Mione!" said Harry, enveloping her in a hug, smiling broadly.  
  
"Yeah, congratulations," said Ron, following suit, smiling as well.  
  
Hermione smiled at the affection her friends showed towards her. Even though at times they could be a little dense or a little slow on the correct way to act at certain news or to take certain hints, they were her friends and what she did and accomplished mattered to them.  
  
"So, do you know who the Head Boy is?" asked Ginny.  
  
"No, the letter never said," said Hermione, now coming to wonder whom her partner in command was.  
  
"Well, it sure isn't either of us," said Harry, motioning to himself and Ron in the process.  
  
"God I hope it's not Malfoy. Could you imagine the torture he would put us through, be able to look down on us and all. Stupid ass," said Ron, mumbling to himself.  
  
"I hope it's not Malfoy. God, that would be awful," said Hermione, smiling at Ron as he mumbled something about decapitation.  
  
"I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't put that git in charge. He would most likely keep Gryffindor from winning any points at all," said Harry, arms crossed.  
  
"What on earth are you four doing? There is supper to be made. Come along now, don't dawdle," said Mrs Weasley as she came upon the quartet having lost them ten minutes prior.  
  
"Coming mum," said Ron, rolling his eyes and resuming his mumbled ramblings.  
  
The four teens followed the woman down to the kitchen where vegetables were already lied out, ready to be chopped, and a chicken was ready to be cut into bits for the stew that would soon be put together. Each was given tasks and after quite some time, the stew was finishing its lengthy simmer and the table was set. At that point Remus Lupin, the former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts walked in, followed later by Nymphradora Tonks who at present had long blonde hair. It wasn't but a few minutes when Alastor Moody, former Auror joined them at the table, soon followed by Severus and Arthur Weasley.  
  
"Blasted Ministry. Can't they do anything right?" asked Alastor to no one in particular.  
  
"What have they done this time Alastor?" asked Severus in his casual drawl, clearly uninterested.  
  
"They are more worried about the damn Quidditch tournaments than they are about the Dark Lord. They should be plotting against him, not worrying over lost bets," said Alastor in an outrage.  
  
"They are merely trying to show a face of calm to the public. Lately the Profit has been filled with the normal drivel rather than the recent Death Eater sightings. Having the whole of wizarding England in a panic would not be good for the Ministry's point of action." Remus stated, buttering a roll.  
  
"Bullshit! That brainless oaf Fudge doesn't know what in the blazes he should do about Voldemort. He'll have a full scale war on him before he knows what hit him and where will he be? Dead most likely," Alastor said, looking at Remus sharply.  
  
"Please Alastor, not in front of the children," pleaded Mrs Weasley.  
  
"We're not three years old mum. Shouldn't we at least know a little bit about what's going on?" asked Ron.  
  
"Certainly not! I will not have my children fretting over affairs that do not concern them," said Mrs Weasley in her usual stern voice.  
  
"Don't concern us? Hell mum, what have we been doing for the past few years, sitting on our arses?" said Ron, clearly irked by his mother's lack of acknowledgement.  
  
"Watch your language Ron. Can't we just have a normal dinner conversation for once?" Mrs Weasley sighed in exasperation. "Hermione, dear, how was your summer?"   
  
"It was," Hermione paused, mulling over the most recent events and risking a slight glance at her uncle. "Alright,"  
  
"Just alright?"   
  
"Yes, just the same old same old. It's quite dull compared to everything that's going on here, but it was nice to be home," said Hermione, smiling a little.  
  
Mrs Weasley smiled at the girl before turning back to her own dinner. From that point on the meal was silent. The occasional 'pass the rolls' was possibly the most anyone ever spoke. Soon night rolled on and engulphed the safe haven of Girmmauld Place in its inky blackness. The four teens had reconvened to the den, leaving the adults to speak in peace, however once the clock struck ten, Mrs Weasley ushered them to their separate rooms for sleep.  
  
"Goodnight Ginny," said Mrs Weasley, kissing her daughter on the forehead before the girl went into her room. "Goodnight Hermione,"  
  
"Goodnight Mrs Weasley," said Hermione, making her way out of the bathroom just feet from her room.  
  
Before Hermione could lay a finger on the rusted handle, footsteps behind her cause her to freeze. She turned around, carefully looking at the figure that had caused her to cease movement. All she found was her uncle, making his way to his own room for the evening.  
  
"Oh, sorry Professor, you scared me there for a minute," said Hermione, taking her hand away from the knob.  
  
"That's alright," said Severus, walking a little past her. "Goodnight Hermione," he whispered.  
  
"Goodnight, Uncle Severus," she whispered back in a voice so low it could have been mistaken for a sigh.  
  
With that both uncle and niece entered their separate rooms, making no other noise. Hermione lied quietly in her bed that evening, thinking about her family and how far away they were. In truth, they weren't more than a floo away, but she needn't worry, for one who had loved her since she was but a babe was little more than a walk away.  
  
A/N: I know, it's short, took me a long time and is quite dull, but I'm trying to build here. It will get better, I promise!  
  
Thank you's:  
  
PsycoticNetJunkie- thank you! And I assume that he does know to not just waltz into Hogwarts to see his daughter...that would be stupid and that is one thing he isn't.  
  
firehottie- thank you!  
  
PaigeGirl-nee- thank you!  
  
Ottawan Angel- thank you!  
  
fairylights2159- thank you!  
  
DanishGirl- thank you!  
  
Kou Shun'u- thank you! Well, it's understandable that Snape would have brothers or sisters, and you will see in the following chapters that there have been Snapes at Hogwarts. Having a nephew there would only mean that one of his siblings has another kid. Tom being a Granger, however, would draw attention to his appearance, which is nothing like Hermione's glamour, and why she never said anything before hand.  
  
Enzeru No Yami- thank you! And yes, my grammar sucks. I'm working on it! 


	5. Chapter 4:Gryffindor!

A/N: Here is chapter five!! I hope you like it, and I do not own ANYTHING! Please review!  
  
"Lucius, remind me why I keep you around?"  
  
"M-my lord, it is not that simple. These things take time-"  
  
"Silence! If that boy does not come over to our side, willingly or no, it will be your head,"  
  
"Y-yes my lord,"  
  
A rather pitiful Lucius Malfoy bowed low to his master and quickly fled the room before any other punishment could be placed upon him. His failure to meet his lords requests concerning his only son were not acceptable for a Death Eater of his caliber and, if he had his way, would not be repeated. At the biding of Lord Voldemort he had had speech with his son Draco concerning his future after his Hogwarts schooling was finished. The boy's rather off-handed answer had been unacceptable, and Lucius had given his own answer to the problem:  
  
"You will join us. You will be initiated as a Death Eater and serve the dark lord as I have done for years,"   
  
"What in the hell makes you think I would want to be anything like you?" asked Draco, his eyes cold.  
  
"You have little option my son. It is either this or exile from everything you have come to know. Or would you rather chose Dumbledore?" said Lucius, his voice never changing from its cool manner.  
  
"Of course not, I just don't want to serve anyone. Not Dumbledore and not the dark lord," said Draco.  
  
"If that is the decision you have made, you'll have to live with the consequences," said Lucius, rising from his chair and leaving the study.  
  
This course of action didn't seem to be the best, as upon informing the dark lord of his conversation with his son the pleased manner Lord Voldemort had once held had fallen. As of now, Lucius was to return to Malfoy Manor and try to persuade his son once more, forcefully if necessary.  
  
"May I ask, my lord, w-why is the Malfoy boy s-so important to you?" stuttered a balding man known as Wormtail.  
  
"Young Draco is a bright boy, almost top of his class in all subjects. He has cunning and that can be useful. Don't forget, Lucius has had this planned since the boys birth," said Lord Voldemort, never glancing at his shaking companion.  
  
"He is b-bright, but only second to that G-granger girl," said Wormtail.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger seems to have forever been a thorn in Lucius' side. She is one of Potter's friends if I'm not mistaken. Severus hardly mention's her, but I would assume teaching would not be something he delights in mentioning," said Lord Voldemort, a skeletal finger on his chin.  
  
"Y-yes my lord,"  
  
"Do not dwell on the mudblood Wormtail. I'm sure with a little incentive young Draco could be made to surpass her in every aspect of his education."  
  
"Yes my lord,"  
  
A trace of a smile could be seen along the dark lord's thin lips. Draco would be made to do well in school and weather he liked it or not he would become a Death Eater. It was in his blood and blood could not be changed. After all, years before the boy's impudent nature had arisen plans had been made concerning him and the path he would take. Nothing the boy could say would deter that of which Lucius and Lord Voldemort had waited so long for.  
  
*  
  
"Come along now, no need to dawdle,"   
  
"We're coming mum, just give us a second," said Ron in exasperation as he lugged his trunk towards one of the borrowed Ministry cars.  
  
"Don't talk to me in that tone of voice Ronald. If you do not hurry you will miss the train," said Mrs Weasley, trying once again to move her son at a faster pace.  
  
"Alright, alright," mumbled Ron under his breath.  
  
Ron unceremoniously hauled his trunk into the boot of the car, placed the pigmy owl Pig on the back seat and climbed in. Once all were seated, though slightly cramped, the car was started and the school-bound group made their way to Kings Cross Station and the waiting Hogwarts Express. Hermione sighed as she shimmied closer to the door of which she was pressed to. The particularly old model of the car did not carry a very sufficient version of an expansion spell, thus causing the cramped atmosphere that Hermione and her three friends had to share. Mrs Weasley and Remus Lupin were accompanying them on this particular trip as Mr Weasley was called into the Ministry.  
  
"Now I want you all to behave this year. I don't want to have any owls telling me that you have gone and broken every rule that Dumbledore has lied down." Mrs Weasley said firmly, glancing back at the four teens.  
  
"We won't mum, promise," said Ginny, smiling at her mother around Pig's cadge.  
  
"That's good to hear," Mrs Weasley smiled.  
  
The car pulled into the parking lot and the group was finally free of the stifling confines of the car. Hermione grabbed her trunk in one hand; Crookshanks cadge in the other, and followed the others to the station. The bustling crowds jarred the group as they walked and the people in question did not seem concerned at all that they might just knock over an unstable teen carrying an owl. Of course, being inconspicuous was in a wizard's nature, and while quite vexing at times it was the way things were.  
  
It seemed like an eternity before they reached the barrier, one by one disappearing behind the brown brick. Once Hermione had made her own journey through, she was greeted by a sight that she had longed to see in the months of summer: the Hogwarts Express. The scarlet steam engine stood proudly on the iron tracks, grey smoke billowing out of the gleaming black stack. Hermione found herself smiling as her gaze rested upon the gilded name which sat upon the side of the train. She was so entranced by this simple object, something she had seen either twice or thrice a year that she failed to notice her friends beckoning her towards the luggage compartment.  
  
"Hey, 'Mione, hurry up will you or we'll never get a compartment," said Ron, calling to her from his spot half-way inside the train door.  
  
"Coming Ron," said Hermione, breaking her gaze.  
  
The group took their customary place at the back of the train, a rather melancholy air about the three seventh years. Of course, during their last year at Hogwarts, everything would hold certain sadness about it. It was unavoidable and at times slightly depressing, but as is the end of a journey. Hermione knew it would be a few short months that would go by like lightning and she would be a graduate, diploma in hand. She would be an adult, ready to begin a life outside the Hogwarts where all manners of peril lied in wait. However, now, at the beginning of the school year, she could put off her worry for just a little longer.  
  
"Who do you think will be our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year?" asked Harry, looking at the others situated in the compartment.  
  
Hermione stopped petting Crookshanks to look up at him and ponder the question. "I hope Dumbledore has found someone, or else the Ministry has sent another official which would not bode well."  
  
"Another Umbridge will ruin my last year," said Ron, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows.  
  
By this time the train had eased out of the station, parents and children had called out goodbyes from open windows and all outside doors had been shut. The rolling countryside was nothing but a swirl of colour flying past the window pane and the happy chatter of students echoed through the halls. Of course, such happy times were easily ruined by unwelcome visitors, and such was the case with Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Potty, the Weasel, Weasel Jr. and the Mudblood. Have a good summer?" said Draco, his lips pulled into a sneer.  
  
"Bugger off Malfoy," said Ron, glaring at him.  
  
"No Weasel, I don't think I will. Tormenting you is my favorite past time," he said, smirking.  
  
"Malfoy, none of us are in the mood to deal with you today. So just sod off before you enter your last year with hex marks on your face," said Harry, following suit and locking his green eyes in a glare.  
  
Hermione had yet to look at the silver-haired boy who so often took pleasure in tormenting her and her friends, but when she did, she noticed something the others had not taken the time to find. Draco was already clad in his school uniform, robes billowing around him like black water, and while at a glance nothing seemed out of place, upon closer inspection there was something odd about him. The collar of Draco's shirt was pulled up higher than normal, the white fabric almost reaching his chin. As the banter between him and her friends progressed, unchecked, Hermione saw something that both frightened and eluded her. Peaking up from underneath the crisp white folds, lying threateningly along Draco's pale neck was a bruise. The small purple and yellow tip of a bruise that it seemed the Slytherin had painstakingly tried to hide had come within her view. This caused Hermione to wonder how much of his throat was covered in the horrid black and blue. However, as she continued to study it, to mentally pry away the rest of the triangular collar to find what was underneath, she found herself being the object of interest.  
  
"What the hell are you looking at Granger?" asked Draco, glaring down at the girl.  
  
"N-nothing," stammered Hermione, breaking her gaze.  
  
"Good," Draco mumbled, turning to leave.  
  
As he did so, Hermione raised her head and locked eyes with the boy, grey on brown. For a brief moment Hermione caught something that resembled a plea, a plea for help in some form or another, but as quickly as it had come, it passed and the cold and unfeeling gaze returned.  
  
"Hermione, are you alright?" asked Harry, leaning forward on his elbows.  
  
"Y-yes, I'm fine," she said, her voice soft.  
  
"Stupid prat. Can't go two seconds without saying something mean," fumed Ron, arms crossed once more and a murderous look in his blue eyes.  
  
"Ron, calm down. He's gone and we probably won't see him until we reach Hogwarts," said Hermione, closing her eyes had leaning back against the wall.  
  
Ron mumbled something incoherently and then quietly fumed from his spot by the window. After that the compartment fell into relative quiet, only broken by the appearance of the food trolley. So the time on the Hogwarts Express passed by quite uneventfully. Food was eaten, some conversation passed at times of unbearable silence. Ginny left at one point to join friends of her own age, and at times another Gryffindor or two would stop by to see the trio. Just as the sun was setting on the horizon, bathing the land in its rich reds, oranges and gold's, giving way to the cold blue night, the town of Hogsmeade was seen in the distance. The thatch roof homes and shops were a welcoming sight to the eyes of the students, a promise of a weekends shopping and spent with friends and significant others. Then, as the train pulled into the small station, the magnificent school of Hogwarts was seen. The many turrets and towers loomed overhead and the lit windows were like dozens of stars set upon the sky. An owl or two flew towards the owlry, the horseless carriages waited patiently along the rode, dark and somewhat broken. Hagrid the half-giant gamekeeper and caretaker of Hogwarts waited on the platform, light in hand, for the first years who would be taken by boat up to the castle. All was as it should be, nothing was amiss, and it was like the beginning to every other school year: perfect.  
  
"Come on, lets go, all firs' years to the boats," called Hagrid in his booming voice.  
  
"Hello Hagird!" called Harry as he stepped off the train.  
  
"'Allo 'Arry! 'Allo 'Ermione, Ron," said Hagrid, waving to them with his dustbin lid-sized hands.   
  
"Hello Hagrid!" called Hermione, smiling at the kindly man.  
  
The trio walked up to a carriage and clambered in, taking their seats and waited for the customary jolt that announced the beginning of the ride. Hermione once again began to be lost in her thoughts and gazed out the window with a rather sleepy air. Smoke resonated from Hagrid's cabin, which lied not far from the Forbidden Forest and the giant squid let its long tentacles wave languidly above the dark water of the lake. Hermione closed her eyes for but a moment, blocking out the sounds of chatter coming from her two male companions and unwillingly slipped into a light sleep.  
  
"Hermione, Hermione, wake up," called Harry, shaking her shoulder slightly.  
  
"Oh Harry, don't bother. She's been asleep for the whole ride and she isn't waking up any time soon. Just carry her in," said Ron in an exasperated and horribly loud tone.  
  
"W-what?" stammered Harry, a blush creeping across his cheeks.  
  
"What is it? Are we there?" asked Hermione, rubbing her eyes and looking at each of her friends in turn.  
  
"Yes, we're there. Welcome back sleeping beauty," said Ron, walking into the Entrance Hall.  
  
"C-come on Hermione, we've been waiting for you for ten minutes," said Harry, following the red head.  
  
Hermione sighed and dragged herself unwillingly out of the carriage. She walked through the gathering mob towards the Great Hall, finally able to push herself through after a moment or two. She stumbled slightly as she made her way to the Gryffindor table, all alight in red and gold. As she took her seat next to her friends, she risked a glance at her uncle who sat on one side of the Headmaster. His usual black robes were in place as was his customary scowl and for only a moment did his black eyes meet hers. Minutes later, the hall was full and the sorting began.  
  
"When I call your name you will come up, I will place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be placed in one of the four houses," instructed Professor Minerva McGonagall.  
  
Hermione's eyes scanned the row of anxious first years until they found a boy with black hair and eyes, a nervous smile upon his face. He was fidgeting slightly at his spot next to a girl with dirty blonde curls and he was constantly craning his neck to look along the staff table and the line of students.  
  
Hermione herself waited just as impatiently for the professor to reach the name of her brother; at least, the name given to her brother. After all, he was to be known as a Snape during his schooling. It wasn't entirely untrue, after all, their mother's maiden name was Snape, and though he was born a Granger, unlike his sister, he could be known by that as well. After what seemed like an eternity, the parchment reached the region of his name.  
  
"Riddick, Amelia,"  
  
Amelia, a small girl with mousy brown hair walked up to the stool and sat down warily. The old sorting hat was placed carefully on her head where it slipped down to her chin. After minutes of silence, the sorting hat seemed to sigh and cried,  
  
"Ravenclaw!"  
  
The table to Hermione's right cheered and applauded as the girl happily hopped off the stool and joined her fellow house mates. Hermione smiled at her, remembering her own sorting where she had assumed that she would be placed were knowledge was treasured and plentiful. What she had not expected, though had secretly hoped for, and was to be placed in Gryffindor where the brave and courageous dwelled. She had never thought she had been worthy of that house, until the end of her first year tolled.  
  
"Snape, Tom,"  
  
Those two words snapped Hermione out of her reverie and she watched as her brother walked up to the sorting hat and sat down, giving a last glance at his uncle and finally at his sister before the hat obstructed his gaze. Hermione waited tensely, her hands fisting in her lap tightly as she waited. However, the whispers around her kept at least a part of her mind occupied.  
  
"You don't think he's Snape's son do you?"  
  
"'Course not. Who would ever touch the slimy git?"  
  
"That kid damn well better be in Slytherin or I swear-"  
  
"Who wants a Snape in Ravenclaw?"  
  
"I hope he's not in Gryffindor,"  
  
These whispers and more seemed to attract Hermione's ear and she silently fumed at them. They were to judge her brother based on nothing but his name, and while it would keep him safe and her from suspicion it seemed that the hate for the elder Snape would follow poor Tom throughout his schooling unless proven otherwise.  
  
"He sure is taking a long time isn't he?" said Ron, looking over at Hermione.  
  
"Yes, he is," said Hermione absently.  
  
"I hope he isn't like the prat up there," said Harry, motioning to the staff table where Severus sat just as nervously as Hermione.  
  
"As long as he's not in Gryffindor I'm alright," said Ron.  
  
At last, the sorting hat let known what the whole of the hall had been waiting to know: "I know where to put you, Gryffindor!"  
  
Instead of the customary applause and deafening cheers that normally accompanied the announcement of a house, there was silence. It was the most horrible silence that had ever graced the hall and the first that Hermione had ever seen. Professor McGonagall pulled off the sorting hat and took a step back, waiting for the boy to hop down and join his classmates. The only ones who were neither shocked nor confused at Tom's placement were Hermione, Severus and Dumbledore. After all, there was already one Snape in Gryffindor, why not another?  
  
It was Dumbledore who started it, the first in the applause that Severus soon joined. Hermione joined in as well and then one by one applause filled the hall. It took a moment or two for the Gryffindor table to put aside their judgment and let their happiness at another new student take its place, but once Tom had taken his seat, across from his sister, everything seemed normal once more.  
  
"Hi I'm Harry, Harry Potter," introduced Harry.  
  
"Hi, I'm Tom," said Tom, not even glancing at the scar that adorned the elder boys' forehead.  
  
"I'm Ron Weasley, and this is Hermione Granger," said Ron next.  
  
"Hi," Tom smiled.  
  
Hermione smiled at him and then turned back to watch the end of the sorting. The finale of the sorting commenced swiftly and once Professor McGonagall had removed the hat and stool Headmaster Dumbledore rose from his gilded seat to say his usual welcoming speech. Though normally these speeches were a little unorthodox they did send the right message to the students and Hermione waited, ready to soak up any information that drifted from the headmaster's mouth.  
  
"Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts School. I am thrilled to see the many smiling faces of returning students as well as that of ones just joining us. Now, as is customary, I have these announcements:  
  
"The Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students, curfew is at ten o'clock every weeknight and eleven o'clock every weekend, Hogsmeade weekend notices will be posted in your common room notice boards as well as other announcements and if you wish to see the full list of school rules please see the office of our caretaker Argus Filch.  
  
"Lastly, before the meal is served, I would like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. She comes to us from Ireland and I would hope you will treat her with the utmost respect. Please welcome Miss Lavinia O'Riley,"  
  
A rather tall blonde woman rose from her chair beside Professor Flitwick. She donned plum coloured robes and had a brilliant smile upon her face. Her long hair was as pale as sunlight and was worn down. Sparkling blue eyes shone from underneath graceful eyebrows and her face was as fair as silk. All eyes were upon her and as she felt their stares she blushed prettily and resumed her seat. As she did, Dumbledore prepared to say his last words:  
  
"Flibity Jibbit,"  
  
And that was that.  
  
"Get a load of her. Wow," said Ron, gazing up at the staff table, a fork covered in potatoes forgotten.  
  
"Ron, it's not polite to stare," Hermione reprimanded.  
  
Tom suppressed a giggle, having only heard of the interactions between his sister and her friends, never having the pleasure to be witness to such moments. As he carefully forked roast chicken into his mouth he hid a smile as his sister shook her head in exasperation as one of the infamous arguments between she and Ron subsided.  
  
Desert was just being served when there was a call for silence. Dumbledore rose from his seat, placing the cloth napkin on the table top and held up his large, aging hands. The hall turned eyes on their violet-clad headmaster and watched as he lowered his arms.  
  
"Before the meal is finished and you all retire to your common rooms, I would like to announce this years Head Boy and Girl. The Head Girl is Hermione Granger of Gryffindor,"  
  
To this applause was received and uproarious cheering came from the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron were whistling and clapping so hard Hermione could tell their hands were turning red. Dumbledore smiled and waited until the almost deafening sound had died before announcing what Hermione had waited weeks to know.  
  
"Our Head Boy is also a very bright student and is Draco Malfoy of Slytherin. Congratulations to you both, and please remain after the hall has cleared. Thank you,"  
  
Hermione sat stock still. She did not dare to move or to even breathe. While the blonde was indeed an excellent student he was still, after six year, the same horribly rude, vulgar, annoying, spoiled brat that had first graced Hogwarts when they were eleven years old. If she had taken the time to look around her, she would have seen Tom looking at her in confusion, Ron steaming, face red, and Harry completely listless. Despite the fact that Hermione had become curious about him and what she had seen on the train, having to work beside him for the year was something she did not take pleasure in thinking about. It seemed, from her glazed glance across the room, that Draco was having the same thoughts.  
  
A/N: First off, I know that it's short and took too long, but my computer crashed a week ago and I haven't been able to update. I've also been mourning the loss of a bunch of pictures that were lost when my hard drive was removed. Second, I know the ministry would never give them cars at Grimmauld Place, but I wanted to put it in…and I forgot. Also, I am rubbish at writing poetry and so there is no sorting hat song.   
  
Please review!!!  
  
Thank you's:  
  
PsycoticNetJunkie- if Tom is supposed to be related to Snape than he isn't a muggle born then is he? Anyway, thank you!  
  
fairylights2159- thank you!  
  
theantisocial1- thank you! And thanks about the disclaimer thing.  
  
Ottowan Angel- I'm sorry about the time it takes, but I can't help it. And as I said, my computer crashed. Luckily I didn't lose any of my fics as they are on floppy disks. Thank you!  
  
Draco's Slytherin Angel- thank you!   
  
Bride of Malfoy- thank you! You'll just have to see.*teehee*  
  
PaigeGirl-nee- thank you!   
  
dracosgurl10- thank you!   
  
ProwlingKitKat- thank you! They won't find out the truth for a while. I love suspense.  
  
juli- thank you!  
  
natyslacks- thank you!  
  
Callista Moon- thank you! You'll just have to wait and see.*giggles* 


	6. Chapter 5:The Rose of Ages

A/N: I don't own anything. The lovely JK Rowling does and she is bloody lucky. Anyway, I hope you like the fifth chapter and please review!!!!  
  
Severus grinned slightly at the looks of utter horror on the faces of his niece and prized student. The latter of the two was banging his head against the mahogany table, hands fisted in the silvery locks that adorned said head. The former, however, gazed at the aged stone of the wall in front of her, eyes glassy and round. Despite the feelings of disgust, pain and anguish that he knew the two teenagers must be feeling, Severus could not keep the look of complete mirth out of his eyes. He was not so completely devoid of emotion that he would be kept from finding joy in the discomfort of his young niece and her most hated enemy. Of course, the real humor in the situation came from the expressions on the faces of her two companions. While one was listless, making no noise or movement, the other was clenching his teeth, clenching and unclenching his fists and seemingly not taking in any oxygen. This site caused Severus to try extremely hard to not break his usual surly demeanor.  
  
"My Severus, is that a smile a see playing on your lips?" said Dumbledore who sat next to the potions master.  
  
"It certainty is not," said Severus, though his lie was swiftly proving fruitless. "I am merely finding amusement at the faces of our Head Boy and Girl,"  
  
"This certainly will be an interesting year, won't it Severus," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling behind his spectacles.  
  
"Yes Albus, it will,"  
  
As the hall began to disperse, only Hermione and Draco remaining, unmoving, Hermione began to dread the news that the headmaster would tell her and her fellow head of the student body. No news concerning the two of them deemed well and so worry and fear became etched in her mind. It was when the hall was cleared, leaving only three occupants, that Hermione's worry was quelled.  
  
"Once again I congratulate you on your head positions," said Dumbledore as the pair came forward.   
  
"Thank you sir," said Hermione whilst Draco remained silent.  
  
"Now, if you will follow me, I will take you to your quarters," said Dumbledore, leading the way out of the Great Hall.  
  
The pair followed and as they moved through the labyrinth of corridors Hermione tried desperately to remember the exact way back to the Great Hall so as not to be lost the next morning. However, after ten minutes of walking Hermione realized that it was all in vain as every corridor, no matter what the painting, looked exactly identical to the one that preceded it. One glance at Draco told her that she wouldn't be the only one who would be lost next day; he was looking down at the stone floor, scowl set firmly in place.  
  
"Ah, here we are," said Dumbledore as they came across a large painting in a gilded frame.  
  
Hermione stared at the painting with wide eyes. No where in Hogwarts was there ever such a painting as the one that stood before her. She had read about it, of course, in Hogwarts: A History, but she never thought she would get the privilege to see it. On the canvas, smiling beautifully stood the Founders in all their glory. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Huffelpuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin, whom Hermione had a blood relation to, smiled down to them as a welcoming gesture. They all wore garb of the time period, the women long flowing dresses in their house colours and the men dressed rather lavishly in long robes of their own colours. To Hermione's surprise, each one held an animal in their arms, the one their house was famous for. Godric held a lion cub snugly in his crimson arms, Helga a badger who was trying vainly to get free. Rowena had a beautiful raven perched on her shoulder and Salazar had a green snake curled loosely around his right arm.  
  
"Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy, I give you the four founders of Hogwarts. They will be guarding the entrance to your rooms," Dumbledore told them.  
  
"Welcome Heads of Hogwarts!" said Godric joyously, pride evident in his voice.  
  
"Yes, welcome," said Helga, beaming at them, round cheeks glowing.  
  
"Thank you," said Hermione somewhat shyly.  
  
"Welcome," said Rowena, her voice as smooth as water over silk.  
  
"Welcome, we hope you enjoy your stay in these quarters," said Salazar, onyx eyes resting on Hermione knowingly.  
  
"The password is 'probable future'," said Dumbledore as the painting swung open on golden hinges.  
  
Stepping through the portrait hole Hermione found possibly the most lavishly furnished common room she had ever laid eyes upon. Rosewood furniture draped in plush velvet coverings were conveniently littered about the room, a large fireplace was crackling merrily and a winding stair led up to what she assumed would be the rooms of her and Draco. Said Slytherin was not at all thrilled and had barely even looked up from where his eyes rested on one of the ornate rugs that were strewn about. Hermione was so caught up in the majesty of the common room that she barely heard the headmaster's instructions.  
  
"Your rooms are upstairs, as is the lavatory, and they are all labeled accordingly. The first prefect and heads meeting is on the twelfth. I do hope you enjoy your time here," said Dumbledore, beaming.  
  
"Thank you headmaster," Hermione breathed.  
  
"You're welcome Miss Granger," he said before departing.  
  
"This place is amazing isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, splendid," Draco replied, walking towards the stairs.  
  
"Malfoy, this is most likely the best room in the castle. How can you just shrug it off as if it's nothing?" said Hermione, slightly outraged.  
  
"I can and I did. Goodnight Granger," he said, not even glancing at her.  
  
With that the blonde retreated up the stairs and to his room which Hermione suspected would be received with the same level of enthusiasm. Once he was gone, his steps no longer heard, Hermione walked over to one of the large sofa's and sat down, sinking into its plush coverings. Before she explored her own room and the bathroom that she would, to her great discretion, be sharing with Draco she allowed herself to revel in the royalties that had been bestowed upon her with her position. As she did this, her eyes gazing around the room and studying every piece in its vicinity, her thoughts wandered back hours to the train ride. She had meant that the next time she saw Draco she would corner him and demand to know how he got that bruise on his throat, but she missed her chance. The boy who was now plaguing her mind with curiosity had locked himself in his room doing god knows what. There was no time for inquiry, no time to quell her thoughts.  
  
"I guess I should go upstairs too then," she said to herself, rising up from the sofa.  
  
Up the stairs and along the hall lied three doors, two with initials belonging to Hermione and Draco and a third labeled as the bath. Upon entering her room, Hermione found it too was lavishly decorated, containing a large four-poster bed, wardrobe and desk as well as a vanity with an ornate oval mirror which Hermione assumed spoke, as most wizarding mirrors tended to do. As she gazed, her eyes caught her trunk and Crookshanks' wicker basket which currently no longer held the cat within. Both were at the foot of her bed and were unpacked immediately by the Head Girl. As the late hour pressed upon her, fatigue set in, and Hermione retired to the land of dreams.  
  
*  
  
Severus swept into the staff room that evening with his usual dramatics, finding few professors present, and sat down to review his lesson plan for the following day. The only other person in the room happened to be Lavinia O'Riley who was currently seated at the other side of the long table, head buried in a rather thick novel. There was relative silence minus the occasional scratching of Severus' quill. After a few minutes, Severus felt eyes on him and raised his head to see who was staring at him in such a rude and distracting manner. Lavinia was reading her book.  
  
Again Severus lowered his head and reviewed the second year lesson plan with slight disgust, until he felt eyes upon him once again. Piercing eyes rested on his form and sent a chill down his spine. Once more he raised his head and only found that Lavinia had switched books. This occurred several more times, each time Severus became more agitated and unable to concentrate. On the fifth occasion, Severus raised his head, eyes blazing, to once again find that it was only he and Lavinia, her blue eyes concentrating on the tomb in front of her. With a slight growl of frustration Severus once more lowered his head to finish his lesson plan.  
  
"I'm surprised at you Severus. You haven't said two words to me since I've arrived and you are acting quite queerly," said the crystal voice of Lavinia.  
  
Once more rising his head Severus found himself face to face with piercing blue eyes that gave him the same feeling of distraction. "The reason I act queer is because someone in this room has continued to stare at me without speaking. If you must know Lavinia you are quite annoying when you have to be."  
  
"I'm hurt," said Lavinia, faking mock sadness. "I thought you thought more of me,"  
  
"Lavinia, it's been nearly sixteen years since we have spoken. Your presence here is somewhat thought provoking thus my silence." Severus said, setting his quill down.  
  
"I try to keep people on their toes,"  
  
"Seems that way,"  
  
Silence passed between them as Severus resumed his writing, paying absolutely no attention to the blonde who sat in the room with him who was presently glaring at his head.  
  
"Lavinia I would like it if you would please stop staring at me. Unlike some I do have work to do,"  
  
"I was no staring. I was merely waiting for you to take up the conversation," Lavinia smiled.  
  
"What you have been doing all these years is of no consequence to me. I am neither curious nor inquisitive and I am quite content to live in ignorance. Now please, stop distracting me," said Severus, glancing at her briefly.  
  
"I had no idea I meant so little to you. I guess I should be leaving. Good evening Severus, pleasant dreams," said Lavinia in a formal and rather cold manner.  
  
She gathered her things and swept out of the room with un-noticed grace and quietly closed the door behind her, leaving Severus to his preparations. Lavinia herself was in need to a slight revision of her own lesson plan, but that could be done in her quarters. She had actually been interested in speaking with Severus, having heard nothing from him or the rest of the Order in quite some time.  
  
*  
  
"Class dismissed!" Professor Flitwick squeaked, students around him gathering their books and quills.   
  
Hermione tried desperately, as she and her friends exited the class room, to drown out the sound of Ron's complaining, but all her attempts, be they staring at her shoes or rifling through her book bag were for not, for Ron continued to talk. Though it was only the second day of school, homework had been piled on for the seventh years. Lectures about their NEWTS at the end of the year were the first thing any professor talked about. The new text books were extremely weighty this year and Hermione, with all of her extra classes, felt her shoulder becoming horribly sore. At present, it was lunch, and Ron's tirade followed them to the Great Hall where the trio was happy to drop their things and sit down to eat.  
  
"Ron, please, I am not in the mood," Hermione mumbled, rubbing her temples where she could feel a headache forming.  
  
"It's unjust Hermione. How in the hell do they expect us to keep up with all this? I mean honestly, with everything that's going on you would think they'd go easy on us," said Ron, brandishing his fork at her.  
  
"Ron, the school will not change just because of the events of recent years. It is our seventh and final year, they're preparing us for the real world," said Hermione, eyes closed and eyes covered with her hand.  
  
"Like I'll need all this in the real world," Ron mumbled, taking a bite fish.  
  
"If you want to get a good job you will," Hermione said before removing her hand and taking a sip of pumpkin juice.  
  
Ron mumbled something incoherently and continued to eat. Harry had wisely stayed out of the conversation and was eating a salad in peace. Hermione, on the other hand, did not get the opportunity to eat in peace, as the Head Boy who had so eluded her the past two days had stalked into the hall. What puzzled her, however, was that he didn't hold the same cocky air about him. His holier-than-thou demeanor was gone and his head was bowed low. Though no one else seemed to notice, Draco seemed quite melancholy as he took his seat at the Slytherin table and no one spoke to him. The other students in the hall went about their business, eating and talking and laughing, whilst Hermione pondered the enigma that Draco Malfoy had become.  
  
He had always been so proud, so arrogant, so horrible to anyone below him in wizarding status, and while the latter was still true, the former seemed to have left him. He no longer held his head up high, reveling in his father's status and family name, he no longer strutted about like he was a prince and though the sneer and trademark smirk were still in place his eyes seemed colder, hallow.  
  
"Herm, Herm," said a voice in a sing-song tone. "Earth to Hermione,"  
  
"What is it Ron," she snapped.   
  
"No need to get in a huff. I just said we should get going. Time for Herbology," said the redhead.  
  
"Oh, yes, class,"  
  
Gathering her things Hermione followed her friends out to the grounds and to the line of glass greenhouses. A few students had already gathered there, awaiting Professor Sprout while they talked and ate the little food they had snagged from the Great Hall. While Harry and Ron delved into a discussion of when the first Quidditch practice would be, Hermione took the time to plan her confrontation of Draco. His queer behavior, not to mention the mark on his throat, caused many questions to spur in her mind and she wanted answers. Though she disliked him for many reasons, though she had a right to, Hermione was naturally curious and yearned to know what was happening to him.  
  
"Alright class, into the greenhouse," said the stout Professor Sprout, ushering them into the nearest glass building.  
  
This particular class was, to the discretion of possibly every Gryffindor, with the Slytherins. The class segregated each other into the two houses, stood along either side of the long wooden table and waited for instruction. As they settled, Professor Sprout brought forth a rather tall potted plant. It had the appearance of a very tall rose, the petals blood red in colour and glistening with silvery dew. However, at the base of the flower, covering the black earth and creeping up the thin column of the stem, were ivy leaves. Or at least, the appeared to be ivy, for they were glass-like and gave off a silvery hue. They looked as if one touch would break them.  
  
"Now, does anyone know what this is?" asked Professor Sprout, however no one, not even Hermione, knew the answer. "Alright then, this is Rosa Aetas or the Rose of Ages. They have extremely long lives, are very rare and contain very special properties. They are also very delicate and need special handling.  
  
"Rosa Aetas has the power to unlock things hidden deep inside of you. Weather it be a desire, yearning, memory or the past, it will unearth it. As it unlocks the past, it does have a tendency to unlock the future. While to most of us the future is unknown, this plant can see into your very soul and tell you what is in store for you. It was said that You-Know-Who used this flower himself and it showed him his future, but of course, that is just a rumor.  
  
"Rosa Aetas does this unlocking by wrapping its delicate vines around your hand and arm. It can take any amount of time for the unlocking to occur, but normally not more than fifteen minutes or so."  
  
The class was rapt in awe. To think such an innocent plant could hold so much power. Most plants in the wizarding world were deceiving, such as Devils Snare, which looked like harmless vines.  
  
"Now, I would like you all to write a six-inch essay on the Rosa Aetas. It's to be handed in tomorrow," said Professor Sprout, leaving the class on their own for a moment.  
  
It wasn't long after she left that the class got into an uproar. Surprisingly, it was about the flower. Everyone was wondering about this strange and exotic plant that sat at the end of the desk. Of course, being the curious class that they were some had to get a closer look.  
  
"Come on. She's not here, let's just go and look at it," said Ron, dragging Harry and Hermione over to it.  
  
"Ron, we'll get into trouble. We shouldn't be playing with it. You heard Professor Sprout, it's very rare," Hermione chided.  
  
"We're not going to destroy it Herm, just look," said Ron, moving closer to it.  
  
As they neared it, they found that its fragrance was phenomenal. The bright scent wafted throughout the room, slowly seeping into pores and clinging to clothes. The ivy shone in the afternoon light and the whole of the plant seemed to glow ethereally. A million questions passed through Hermione's mind as she and her friends neared the flower, the most prominent being if her father, her true father, really did use this flower to see his future. If this vision was what drove him forward in his quest for world dominance.  
  
When they had neared the plant, the once brave boys stopped short, not sure which one of them should try out the plant's powers. To Hermione's annoyance, it was decided in the end that it would be she to let the plant take hold of her. Warily, she walked forward; arm outstretched, and placed a pale finger on one of the ivy leaves. The affect was almost instantaneous.  
  
The iridescent vines wrapped around her hand and up her forearm. She felt her body go ridged and cold and all thought fled from her mind. Time seemed to slow and she embraced the numbness that the vines offered. Her vision was foggy, until, after a moment or so, it cleared to present what seemed to be the heavens to her eyes. The spiraling cosmos passed by her eyes slowly, gradually speeding up. Stars wield overhead, plants formed out of the corner of her eye, all speeding as she viewed. Suddenly, the speed doubled and she was vaulted forward into a mass of images. She saw a dark haired boy dressed in white running through a field of flowers, a room full of people in colourful garb, a blonde haired man standing in a corner and a snake moving past a doorway. The last few images were possibly the most frightening she had ever seen in her short existence. She saw a pair of eyes, snake-like in appearance, though blood red and enraged. A high, cackling laugh pierced through the silence that had previously reigned and white hot pain shot through her arm and into the rest of her body. Lastly she saw the Dark Mark, burned into a forearm, blood seeping from the edges. The scent assaulted her senses and she felt the sudden urge to retch. The blood was so strong, her body was throbbing in pain, a woman screamed, and then it stopped.  
  
The vines let go.  
  
Her vision cleared.  
  
The greenhouse materialized before her.  
  
Rosa Aetas pulsed with energy.  
  
Voices surrounded her and yet, she felt herself becoming withdrawn from them.  
  
Darkness enclosed her vision and she knew no more.  
  
A/N: I know! I'm a horrible person. You'll just have to wait for the next chapter to see what happens to poor Mia. Yes, I am rubbish at making up species (be they plant or animal), but this is just how it is. Also, I know Hermione wouldn't willingly give in to Harry and Ron's stupid plans, but I needed her to for the plot to work. Please review!!  
  
Thank you's:  
  
ProwlingKitKat- yes, Malfoy Sr. is evil. He should die or be locked up in Azkaban…but lets see how the story goes shall we?lol! Anyway, thanks!  
  
nastyslacks- thanks!  
  
paprika90- she'll try to be discreet about it. Thanks!  
  
ghypscee- thanks!  
  
Li-chan- thanks!  
  
Annie- you'll see. Thanks!  
  
lgobgirlie15- interesting new penname. Thanks!  
  
HermioneTheGoldenFox67- you'll have to wait and see. Thanks!  
  
kitty-cat2134- as you can see, I did. Thanks!  
  
Tara-Yo- thanks!  
  
kamakura- let me take a wild guess at who this is.lol. You damn well better read this. Oh, and Inuyasha on Friday was awesome! New ending! You'll love it! 


	7. Chapter 6:His History

A/N: I don't own anything but this computer and a little stuffed anime monkey. Please review!!!!!  
  
The distinct scent of disinfectant assailed Hermione's nose as she slowly awoke. Her eyes were half lidded, her brain locked in a proverbial fog, and the feel of stiff linen was beneath her fingertips. Slowly sitting up, she saw that she was in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts, the sun slowly setting beside her and the curtains pulled around her small bed. Her book bag was on the small table beside her and sitting in a chair, consumed by the pages of a potions book, was her uncle. His long ebony locks framed his face which was creased in concentration. He sighed heavily, signaling that he was quite bored with his current activity, as he had yet to notice his niece.  
  
"How long have I been here?" Hermione asked, gazing at her uncle as he raised his head from the book.  
  
"All afternoon," he said coolly. "It is almost time for dinner and Poppy has left me to watch over you while she speaks with the headmaster."  
  
"What-"  
  
"-Happened? You touched that plant, went ridged for a period of ten minutes and then promptly collapsed. I was informed soon after you were brought here."  
  
"I…saw things…horrible things…a woman screamed…" Hermione trailed off, her broken sentence becoming mild mutterings.  
  
"I am sorry to say, Miss Granger, that the scream you heard, was your own," said the voice of Albus Dumbledore as he parted the curtain and walked through, followed by Poppy Pomfry.  
  
"W-what?" Hermione stuttered.  
  
"Before you fainted, Miss Granger, you let out quite a frightful cry. Now, if you would be so kind, please tell us what happened," said Dumbledore, taking a seat next to Severus.  
  
Poppy finished her examination and left them alone. The headmaster took out his wand and cast a silencing charm around the area so as not to be overheard. Once finished he focused his attention on Hermione, motioning to her with a nod of his head that she should begin. Hermione stuttered horribly as she recalled the images she had seen. Her voice shook and cracked and every word she spoke brought forth the images for a second time. When she finished, both Dumbledore and Severus were quite worried.  
  
"Those are very distressing images you saw, Miss Granger. However, some will be quite simple to identify," the headmaster explained. "The eyes and the voice you heard were undoubtedly that of the Dark Lord. The Dark Mark was part of an initiation ceremony for a new Death Eater."  
  
"Albus, if I may," Dumbledore nodded. "The snake you saw was most likely the Dark Lord's pet, Nagini. I assume Potter has seen her a number of times." Said Severus.  
  
"Nagini," Hermione murmured.  
  
"It may take some time to identify the other images. For now you must rest here," Dumbledore instructed.  
  
"Headmaster, why did I see such things? Why did I receive images of the Dark Lord?" Hermione asked frantically.  
  
"Miss Granger, as you have learned, Rosa Aetas displays the past, present and future. What you saw may possibly have been the past, when Lord Voldemort first reigned. However, it could have also been the future, now that he has been resurrected. Being his daughter, his only child, his blood, has able you to do what he once did."  
  
"You mean-"  
  
"Yes. Voldemort too used to powers of Rosa Aetas to unlock his own future. This added more fuel to the flame of hatred that already burned brightly within young Tom Riddle. Let us hope, Miss Granger, that you will not succumb to the same fate,"  
  
"O-of course not, headmaster," said Hermione, smiling at him slightly.  
  
"Good night, Miss Granger. Rest up,"  
  
With that the charm was removed and the headmaster left the infirmary. Severus watched him go, swallowing the uneasy lump in his throat that had formed since the introduction of the Dark Lord into the conversation. After all, his family was in grave danger, and he would die before he saw any harm come to them.  
  
"Severus, you may leave if you like. Dinner will have started by now," said Poppy as she walked in with a tray of food levitating behind her.  
  
"That's quite alright Poppy. I have no prior engagements. I will stay here while you have your own dinner," said Severus while opening his book once again.  
  
Hermione quietly ate her supper, glancing every-so-often at her uncle whom during the entire meal sat engrossed in his book. Not once did he look up from it and not once did he say anything to her. He remained long after the meal while Poppy worked in her office and it was during that time, when Hermione began to feel quite drowsy, that the creek of the door interrupted the heavy silence that had blanketed the pair. Hermione heard the scuffle of feet as they moved across the stone floor and immediately assumed that it might be Harry and Ron whom had previously been banned from the infirmary for barging in and angering the matron earlier that day. Slowly the cotton curtain was pulled back and a small boy of eleven moved into view. Tom, who had managed to escape the confines of his dormitory, gave her a small quiet wave as Severus raised his head and glanced over at his nephew.  
  
"It is far past curfew Tom. Might I enquire as to why you are away from Gryffindor Tower?" he said in his usual tone.  
  
"It was the only time I could get away to see 'Mynee. She's the only one in here and someone would have caught me and been suspicious. Everyone else has gone up to bed. Class tomorrow and all," said Tom, smiling at his uncle nervously.  
  
"That was quite clever of you Tom," said Severus, granting the boy a small, almost miniscule smile. "However, you must make this visit a brief one lest a prefect or another professor find you out of bed."  
  
Tom nodded and walked over to Hermione, hopping up onto the bed and smiling at her. Hermione smiled back and hugged her brother, feeling his small arms wrap around her middle. Releasing him, Tom began to inform her of the happenings of the school outside the Hospital Wing.  
  
"Harry and Ron told me what happened. They were really being upset about being kicked out of here, really worried about you too. Everyone's wondering about what you saw. They said it was really scary, because you screamed," Tom trailed off, looking down at the bed and picking at the white sheets. "I was really worried about you,"  
  
"I know," Hermione said her voice small.  
  
"Should we tell mum?" asked Tom, raising his head and looking between his sister and uncle.  
  
"I will write to your mother and inform her of your most recent hyjinks," said Severus, earning a glare from his niece. "I doubt Annelise will be very thrilled to receive word of this."  
  
Both children nodded their heads and resumed the previous silence that had permeated their rather sparse conversation. After a moment or so, Severus instructed Tom that is was time to leave, as Hermione needed her rest. Tom wrapped his arms around his sister once again and walked behind the curtain to wait for his uncle.  
  
"I'm afraid that I must too depart. It is growing quite late and you need your rest. Goodnight, Hermione," said Severus, flashing a swift smile.  
  
"Goodnight, uncle," said Hermione, smiling back.  
  
Once they had left the lights dimmed and Hermione sank back into the pillows. She turned on her side and pulled the blanket up to her chin, closing her eyes tightly. Her only hope was that she would be untroubled by horrible visions, and her only comfort was knowing that they may have been all in the past.

x  
  
Hermione was reluctantly released from the Hospital Wing the following day. She attended classes, meals and remained relatively cheerful in the face of her friends and peers. However, she noticed strange behavior on the part of her professors. They looked at her in a manner that she was unaccustomed to; some with pity, some with confusion, and some with a strange sense of disappointment. Despite the odd behavior of her professors, Hermione found that one stood out from the rest. All save Severus and Dumbledore thought of her as the muggleborn she portrayed, and yet during the lesson of Lavinia O'Riley, Hermione found herself feeling exposed for the person she was.  
  
"Alright class, it has come to my attention that for your entire Hogwarts career you have not managed to hold a single Defense professor for more than a year is that correct?"  
  
Many heads nodded in reply whilst others looked quite bored. After all, every professor began their first day like this.  
  
"Well, as today is your first class, I thought we'd look into something a little different," this perked the interest of many students. "In previous years you have been taught defensive spells, learned the theory behind them, were taught many numerous dark creatures and were even taught and subjected to the unforgivable. While these prepare you for any battle you may come across, especially in these dark times, I find it just as useful to know my enemy."  
  
Every student was craning their heads to listen, intent on finding out exactly what O'Riley was getting at. Some were even shocked that she would openly mention the war, as some were still afraid to mention the state of their world. Hermione, however, shifted nervously in her seat, anxious about what was to come.  
  
"Your enemy, my enemy, our enemy, the enemy of the wizarding world, is a man of unspeakable evil, and as such, most are too frightened to even utter the first syllable of his name. I, however, find that quite foolish, as you all should, and I will not revert to saying You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named just because many of you may flinch," by now many students were turning very pale and had averted their gaze to the floor. "The history of Lord Voldemort is long, dark and a path I urge you all not to follow. Now please open your books to page 94,"  
  
All students did ask such, hands shaking and complexions sickly. Hermione found that her breath had caught in her trout, and upon glancing at Harry and Ron, she found Ron breathing deeply and Harry's fists clenched.   
  
"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Professor O'Riley read, "was born on April 5, 1926 to Tom and Alice Riddle. Tom did not have an easy childhood, and when he was just a babe he was left at an orphanage after his father's desertion and his mother's death. Tom grew up unloved by those around him and with few parental figures, but at the tender age of eleven, like all magical children, he received his salvation: Hogwarts.  
  
"Tom, already feeling like an outsider for his mixed blood, did not automatically befriend anyone. However, upon being sorted into Slytherin, his cunning and determined nature was reveled and friends were made. These would later become his first followers, the first of many who would bend to his will.  
  
"Being an intelligent boy, Tom was at the top of his class in every subject, and he favored the Dark Arts most of all. It became apparent, within the first few years of his schooling, that Tom had an aptitude and a thirst for the Dark Arts. He was seen devouring many books on the subject and amazed many professors on his knowledge of it. Thus his first four years at Hogwarts passed smoothly and without incident save that of any student.  
  
"In his fifth year, after another tortuous summer at the orphanage, Tom returned to Hogwarts as a house prefect. Tom was thrilled with the coveted position and worked to the best of his ability to maintain the pride and dignity that it offered. However, the year was not to go smoothly. It was during this time that the fabled Chamber of Secrets was opened by the heir of Slytherin and the monster that dwelled within was set loose. After the petrifaction of a few muggleborns, one student, a Miss Myrtle Mason, was tragically killed by the creature. Luckily, shortly thereafter, Tom caught the heir and said student was expelled. While Tom was awarded for his efforts, there seemed to be one whose trust had faltered. Hogwarts' then professor of Transfiguration Albus Dumbledore was said to keep a watchful eye on the boy since the attacks had begun, and had increased his watches even after the culprit was caught. A source was quoted as saying, 'Tom was not a fan of muggleborns. I would even say he hated them…you're not going to print that are you?'  
  
"Despite the faith of those around him, Tom's true Slytherin nature seemed to shine through brighter than most. It was after his fifth year, after the attacks had stopped, that he was spotted entering one of the high level greenhouses on the grounds of the school. Eye witnesses say that they saw a light coming from the greenhouse, like nothing they had ever seen before. It was after that, during his sixth year at school that Tom seemed to change.  
  
"While not openly cruel to anyone, Tom and his friends were reported to threaten and at times physically assault muggleborns of the school away from the public eye. While still respected by his professors, there was a hidden fear amongst the students, a fear that remained until he graduated, top of his class and head boy in 1944.  
  
"Little is known of Tom Riddle during the time after his graduation. Though a brilliant man he faded into obscurity, into the back of everyone's minds. It wasn't until the mid 1960's that dark activity was briefly noted by the Ministry of Magic. It went unnoticed until, a few years later it appeared once more, this time in the form of a murder. A middle aged wizard, whose name will not be disclosed, was found dead in Yorkshire. It was later determined that he had suffered two of the Unforgivable Curses, one which killed him. The Ministry held an investigation, but no evidence was found. No one knew what was about to come.  
  
"Throughout the 1960's and 1970's he had been gathering followers, most of which who were from prominent wizarding families. It was all silent, all low-key, and no one had been prepared for his first major strike. On May 27, 1977, an entire family of wealthy muggles, women, children, parents and grandparents, had been brutally murdered. At first, the Ministry hadn't a clue as to who had committed the most heinous crime. That was, until two things caught their eyes. The first was what we now know as the Dark Mark, looming high in the sky above their home. The second was a note, written on the wall in the blood of the family: Muggles and Mudbloods beware, for thy time is neigh. The Dark Lord cometh, prepare for the end. The Lord Voldemort shall have his way.  
  
"It was at this time that the first war started. The death count of muggleborns rose every month and the fear for our world was in the heart of every witch and wizard. Tom Riddle, the brilliant yet frightening boy from Hogwarts, was now known as Lord Voldemort, killer and Dark Lord of the wizarding world. His reign of terror destroyed many lives, and to this day we are still recovering." Professor O'Riley took a shaky breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose ever so slightly.   
  
"There are many speculations and rumors about what happened during Voldemort's reign," she continued. "Most of which are completely ludicrous. However, some poses something that may have possibly been truth. It has been speculated that Voldemort took a wife, a child bride who was young enough to be his daughter. It was also speculated that the pair had an heir of some sort. Nothing is known. Some say that there was no heir and the child of one of his Death Eaters would take his place upon his death; others that somewhere, a child lives who is the heir to the dark throne.  
  
"The reign of the Dark Lord, though terrible, was thankfully, a brief one. On October 31, 1981, Lord Voldemort met his downfall in young Harry Potter, who was but then an infant. Voldemort went to Godric's Hallow that evening with the intent to murder the Potter family; however, he only managed to kill two of the three residence of the home. James and Lily Potter were killed shortly before the Dark Lord's wand turned on young Harry. Somehow the Killing Curse which had put an end to his parent's lives had no effect upon Harry; rather it rebounded and killed the Dark Lord himself. Harry was left with nothing but a lightning bolt shaped scar, and there was no trace of the Dark Lord.  
  
"After his death many of his followers were captured, most of which lie in Azkaban prison. Thus we reach the end of Tom Riddles life, when he was no longer the man he was, but the monster he had so willingly become.  
  
"Abigail Appleby, March 5, 1984."  
  
Professor O'Riley took a deep breath and closed the book shut. The article, for that was what it had been, had deeply shaken not only herself, but the entirety of her class. Many were pale and looked very ill. Some had tears in the corners of their eyes and some girls had the salty liquid streaming down their cheeks. However three particular students caught her gaze. Ron Weasley was so pale that his red hair stood out more so than before and his breath was shallow and horse. Hermione Granger was visibly shaking and looked like she might be sick on the spot. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, who the article had so unabashedly spoken about, was gripping the desktop, his knuckles white. A look of anger was in his eyes and tears were in the corners of the boys eyes. Of all the students, O'Riley saw that these three were affected the most.  
  
"Now," she said her voice soft. "As you can see the article is not as accurate as I would have liked. Tomorrow, we will clear up a few things."  
  
With that the bell chimed, signaling the end of class. Slowly each student stood and left the room, most clutching onto one another. The last to leave were Harry, Ron and Hermione as it had taken much coaxing to get Harry to release his grip on the desk. The trio left the room, walking close to each other, and as they left Lavinia O'Riley saw the boys take Hermione's hands in their own and give it a squeeze. As they left Lavinia walked the short distance to her desk chair and sat down, taking a moment to relax before her next class would grace her with their presence.

x  
  
Hermione sat on one of the numerous arm chairs that littered her common room with a large, dusty tome lying open on her lap. After completing her homework for the evening Hermione found she had little else to do, and as such, burying herself in a novel seemed like the best idea. Having come away from Professor O'Riley's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, though slightly more knowledgeable than before on her father's personal history, one paragraph in the article had startled her beyond her own comprehension.   
  
She knew before hand, as her professor introduced the topic they were to discuss, that it would most likely be about the Dark Lord. After all, what other enemy did the wizarding world unanimously have? She had tried to keep all thoughts of her knew parentage out of her mind. Hermione found that focusing on adjusting to having Severus Snape as an uncle was enough of a task in itself, and so worrying about her father was not something she tended to do. Now being forced to do it, to contemplate the person her father was, made accepting Uncle Severus far easier.  
  
Hermione pulled a throw over her chilled legs and shut her book, glancing at the plate of soda crackers and glass of ginger ale warily. After class had ended and she, Harry and Ron had begun to make their way to the tower to relieve themselves of their book bags, Hermione found herself to become even more nauseated than before and after trying vainly to hold in the contents of her stomach she had promptly ran to the nearest bathroom and retched continuously for five minutes.   
  
It wasn't just that the man she had read about not ten minutes prior was her father, it wasn't that she had helped to defeat or somehow waylay him in some form or another; it was the images Rosa Aetas had shown her. As she listened to her professors clear and calm voice recite from the text Hermione could almost hear his maniacal laugh, could almost see the blood-red eyes in her mind and she swore she could smell the faint coppery tinge of blood. Everything she had seen, heard and smelt suddenly came to her during that class and for a moment she wished she had never left the Hospital Wing.  
  
"Jesus Christ Granger," Draco Malfoy moaned as the bathroom door swung open and Hermione rushed in to empty the sparse contents of her stomach.  
  
It seemed that taking the time to think back on class that day had not been the wisest of moves. "Shut up," said Hermione, tears forming at the corners of her eyes as she retched.  
  
Draco buttoned up his pristine school shirt before walking calmly towards her, his sock-clad feet not making a sound on the marble floor. In one fluid motion he gathered her ginger hair in his hand and held it away from her face as she was sick. Hermione's fingers gripped the toilet paper dispenser on her right and clawed at the tile wall on her left. Tears streamed down her red face and her breathing became heavy and uneven. After a few minutes she ceased her clawing and pressed the small metal lever, flushing the toilet, and set the lid down. With a moan of sadness she sank to the floor and gathered a wad of toilet paper in her hand, whipping her mouth with it. Draco had long since released her hair and was now staring at her, watching her as she sniffled and a tear fell down her pink cheek.  
  
"What's the matter with you?" he asked, not used to seeing someone in this type of distress.  
  
"None of your business Malfoy. Please, just leave me be," Hermione sniffled.  
  
"On the contrary Granger, it is my business. You have barged into the bathroom while I was busy getting dressed, and I am the Head Boy. I have a right to know," he said, arms crossed.  
  
"And I am the Head Girl. I don't have to tell you anything," Hermione said, grabbing more paper.  
  
With an exasperated sigh Draco turned and walked away, leaving Hermione alone on the ground. She whipped her sore eyes and deposited the paper in the toilet bowel. As she sat there, fingering the veins in the marble floor, Hermione assumed that she would be alone for the remainder of the evening. After all, why would Draco Malfoy want to spend anymore time with a retching muggleborn; even if they were partners? To her surprise, however, she heard the same soft footsteps as she had not fifteen minutes prior. Not wanting to look up she traced one of the golden marble veins with her index finger and waited for whoever it was to leave her in tousled peace. A moment later she found herself nose to nose was a Kleenex box.  
  
"Here, use these. Don't go wasting all the toilet paper," came Draco's rather gruff voice from above her.  
  
"Th-thank you," Hermione mumbled and gave him a watery smile.  
  
Draco nodded, and instead of leaving her like she assumed he would, he sat down on the floor in front of her. He watched her as she whipped her eyes and nose and ran a hand through her bushy hair. Hermione set the box aside and looked at him, smiling nervously. The boy in front of her was becoming more on an enigma as time passed, and this made her even more determined to figure him out.  
  
"You don't have to stay here with me you know. I'm sure you have far more pressing things to do than sit here with me and wait until I'm sick again," said Hermione.  
  
"On the contrary, I don't have anything more pressing to do," said Draco, resting his chin on his palm.  
  
"Then why are you here? Why are you sitting with me and where did you get that bruise on your neck?" Hermione asked in one quick, flustered breath.  
  
"I am here because the Head Girl is being sick and there is no one else around. I am sitting with you because my talents in holding hair back may come in handy again later and I do not have a bruise on my neck." Draco answered.  
  
"Malfoy, you have failed to button your shirt fully. I can see the yellow and purple almost clearly," Hermione smirked.  
  
Truthfully she could see it. For all intensive purposes it was healing rather well and had turned from the angry blue and black to a yellow and purple. As she now had a far better view than she had received on the train, Hermione found that said bruise was rather large and had long, thin bruises extending from the main one. As she studied it, Hermione realized that it was a handprint.  
  
"What happened?" she asked her voice soft.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it, especially not with you," he said angrily.  
  
"Malfoy, I am far from stupid. Along your trout is a handprint. Whose is it?" Hermione said, shooting him a slight glare.  
  
"Granger, I do not ask you about your private affairs and I would appreciate it if you would do the same for mine," said Draco.  
  
"Well kill me for caring," Hermione snapped.  
  
"Granger you do not care, you care curious," said Draco, glaring at the girl in front of him.  
  
"So what if I am curious? You're my partner, and though you may be a nasty little git I do care," said Hermione, her cheeks flushing pink with rage.  
  
"I do not need curious little mudbloods worrying about me. There is nothing wrong with me whatsoever," said Draco, turning his gaze away from her.  
  
Hermione sighed and shook her head, her mussed hair flying about her face in a ginger storm. "There is something wrong. Someone is hurting you and you won't let anyone help you. You've never been good at accepting help have you?" she whispered.  
  
"Malfoy's don't accept help. Not for anything," Draco mumbled, casting his silver gaze downward.  
  
"That's your problem then. You have to learn to accept it," Hermione said, her voice still soft.  
  
Slowly Draco raised his gaze and looked her directly in the eye, his once rather sad gaze turning into a dark glare. "You're right Granger, it is my problem. It is mine and mine alone. I will deal with it, no one else," he said, rising from the floor and storming out of the bathroom.  
  
Hermione remained on the cold marble floor, a soft yet sad smile adorning her lips. It seemed that Draco would remain stubborn to the end, not letting anyone or anything get close to him. Hermione stayed like that for quite some time before she slipped into the bath and then retreated to the gentle folds of her bed. Sleep claimed her without protest and she managed to evade any images that Rosa Aetas had given her. There, in sleep, she was untroubled by the woes of the waking world. In sleep, there was no Voldemort, no secrets, no war, no worries or anxieties. In sleep, she was free.  
  
A/N: yes, the ending was slightly corny. What can I say…I'm actually quite surprised I finished this when I did, as right now exams are coming up…Monday actually…and I've been studying like a mad man. Anyway, I know I planned for Hermione to confront Draco a few chapters ago, and I wasn't even going to include it in this one. Ce la vie! Please review and tell me what you think!  
  
Thank yous:  
  
LaLa-the-Panda- thank you!  
  
theguy- thanks!  
  
paprika90- thanks! I hate that bit of Inuyasha too. I mean, do we really need it? If we don't know what happens already, then we will never know.   
  
lestrange24- thanks! I'm flatteredblushes.  
  
Li-chan- sorry I took so long with this…thanks for the review!  
  
natyslacks- thanks!  
  
ProwlingKitKat- thanks! You'll find out soon enough.  
  
ghypscee- thanks!  
  
Cereza- you'll see…thanks!  
  
Tara-Yo- you'll see if she takes the dark mark or not…willingly or no…thanks!  
  
Mikasa Wormhole- no the class didn't see what she saw. If they did…well then the cat's out of the bag…thanks!  
  
Tokyobabe2040- sorry about not updating in so long. Thanks for the review!  
  
Starseay- glad it makes sense. Thanks!  
  
Erised- I'll try and work on their relationship. I tried to sneak in a bit here, as you can see. Most of the beginning of the fic will mostly be Hermione trying to deal with who she really is. She's not supposed to tell her friends, so she has to go it alone. Thanks!  
  
Zvezdana- thanks!  
  
F75- alright then…


	8. Chapter 7:Dumbledore's Request

A/N: I don't own anything. Please review, hope you like it!  
  
Severus Snape paced back and forth in his office running a hand through his black locks. As he did so, the disembodied head of his elder brother Salazar bobbed in the hearth, fire licking the tips of his ears. Salazar's eyes, identical to those of Severus, watched the potions master pace with dry cynicism. He had called on his brother for a number of reasons. One, the anniversary of Annelise's disappearance was swiftly approaching and their parents wished for Severus to be present at their home for a family dinner. Normally such occasions were either held before or after the actual day due to Severus' teaching schedule, but due to the availability of all members of the family on the Saturday, it would be held officially for the first time in many years.  
  
Second was an inquiry forwarded to him by Lenore regarding the newest Snape in Hogwarts. Lenore's second youngest, a third year by the name of Quinn Porter, had owled his mother a few weeks prior stating that a boy by the name of Tom Snape had been sorted into Gryffindor. Of course, neither Lenore nor Salazar had any children by that name, Severus was currently unmarried and as Annelise was presumed dead it became quite confusing as to the boy's parentage. Salazar was seeking answers.  
  
"Come now Severus. You know very well that Elizabeth is the youngest Snape in our family and Amelia and I have no other children save Constance and Stephano. Please tell me who this child is so it may quell our sister's curiosity and keep me from contacting the headmaster," Salazar drawled.  
  
"The headmaster," Severus muttered. "That might not be a bad idea,"  
  
Salazar raised a slim eyebrow and watched as Severus called a house elf to his office. He scribbled a note to Dumbledore, handed it to the elf and sent it away. Once the task was complete he slumped against the dark wood of the desk with a heavy sigh.  
  
"You know, I'm surprised that it was Quinn who contacted his mother. After all, there are four other children dwelling within Hogwarts and any one of them could have said something. It seems odd that Quinn was the one to do it," said Salazar.  
  
"Salazar, I am sure that both Constance and Will could care less about any first year, carrying their name or no. As neither of them would do it Quinn seems fairly obvious,"  
  
"And Zelda? You have conveniently forgotten about her,"  
  
"Zelda pays little to no attention to those outside her own house. It is not a matter of convenience, rather one of common sense,"  
  
Salazar closed his eyes and sighed, coming to look at his brother with a rather weary expression. It absolutely infuriated him when Severus was right about some blatantly obvious point, which was quite often. After a moment or so of rather awkward silence in which Salazar was trying to sooth his childish emotions of frustration for his younger brother, the door to Severus' office opened and in stepped the headmaster. Dumbledore smiled to both Severus and the head of his brother and came to stand beside the potions master, hands clasped in front of him.  
  
"Gentlemen, what seems to be the problem?" Albus asked, eyes twinkling with a touch of foresight.  
  
"I am merely here to enquire as to who the first year by the name of Tom Snape is and who his parents may be. There is no one in my family with that name and Severus is disinclined to enclose the desired information." Salazar explained.  
  
"Headmaster, may I remind you of our previous conversation?" asked Severus.  
  
"No Severus, you may not, I have not forgotten. However, perhaps disclosing the information to only your family may actually be a far wiser choice than first concluded." Albus said.  
  
Severus was reluctant at first, but the look in Albus' eyes put his fears to rest. Though he worried for the safety of his sister and her children, who else could he trust if not his family? However, despite that, Severus was greatly worried, for the more who knew of Annelise's existence, the more that were in danger.  
  
"I will consider it, Albus. If I do decide to enclose this information, I will at dinner on the thirty-first." Severus said, a slightly shaky hand to his forehead.  
  
"Please consider it, Severus," said Albus.  
  
"As heart-wrenching a display as this is," Salazar's voice interrupted in a long drawl. "I must be going, dear brother. I will see you on Halloween. I bid you farewell,"  
  
With that Salazar's head vanished leaving Severus and Albus alone in the candle-lit dungeon that was Severus' office. Turning away from the fire Severus took a seat at his desk, head in his hands. Albus placed a weathered hand on his colleague's shoulder, hoping to sooth the suffering man.  
  
"Despite the troubles you now face, Severus, I must ask something of you," said Albus, his voice softer.  
  
"Ask me anything Albus," Severus said amidst his palms.  
  
"It seems that through these recent weeks the main topic of discussion in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class has been the Dark Lord. Many of the faculty is outraged at the affect it is having on their students. I need you to speak with Lavinia," said Albus, his eyes on the man beside him.  
  
"As horrid a topic as it may be, she has done nothing wrong; nothing that deems her to cease her lessons. In fact it may prove quite useful," Severus said, resting his hands on his desk.  
  
"Severus, while I do agree that learning of the Dark Lord is useful, she is sending the children into hysterics, especially those who have had entanglements with him or his Death Eaters in some form or another,"   
  
"Oh God," Severus breathed.  
  
"Yes, Severus, she too is being effected. She has gone to Poppy a number of times for the Dreamless Sleep potion to ease her evenings. Every student is suffering, and while in the end it may be beneficial, it comes at a price. She is hurting them, though not physically, but rather mentally," Albus said gravely.  
  
Severus nodded in silent reply as he imagined his niece, shaking in a classroom as she listened to her classmates discuss her father and all that was connected to him. After the first class' initial text book discussion, Professor O'Riley had then taken to correcting the major errors in the book, followed by the more minor of the errors. Each time they did, each time a class ended, every student was always pale and so utterly shaken that they could not speak. O'Riley did not take it upon herself to single out Harry, however, and every discussion remained open to every member of the class. Despite that, Harry, as well as many other students, got a somewhat glazed look when past events were discussed. No matter from what time period they were from, be it the Auror attack on Voldemort's manor or the incident at the Department of Mysteries but two years ago, the haunted and sometimes broken look returned.  
  
"Please speak with her Severus. There are many other aspects of this war she could focus on. Talk of the Dark Lord has gone on long enough. Hogwarts is a haven, not a prison," Albus said, quietly exiting the office.  
  
It took a few moments for it all to sink in before Severus rose from his seat and flew from his office with renewed fervor. He practically ran the numerous flights of stairs until he had reached her office, and upon doing so, he threw the door open and marched in, hell bent on stopping this madness.  
  
"Severus, how nice to see you," said Lavinia from where she was seated on the surface of her desk.  
  
"Lavinia, to be perfectly frank, what the hell is the matter with you?" asked Severus, robes settling around him.  
  
"Whatever do you mean?" she asked with an innocent smile.  
  
"Albus has just informed me that you have been discussing the Dark Lord with your students. While I do agree on knowledge of ones enemy, I do not agree on frightening students to the point of mental break down. Please explain yourself!" Severus said with fury.  
  
Lavinia looked slightly taken aback and came to stand directly in front of her desk; facing the irate potions master. "I am merely giving them insight on who the Ministry is fighting," she said, shutting the door with the aid of her wand. "Who the Order is fighting,"  
  
"They know who we are fighting, Lavinia. Some know first hand. They are not ignorant in the ways of this war," said Severus, hands fisted at his side.  
  
"They are only children Severus. They need to be taught on what they will be facing, when the time comes. The Ministry can only do so much before we have a full scale war on our hands." Lavinia said.  
  
"They may be children, they may not have all the knowledge that this school has to offer, but they know what they will face; what they have faced." Severus said in a grave tone.  
  
"I may have been out of the country but I know what has gone on in the past. Harry Potter and his friends have encountered many terrors these past years, but they are only a small part of this school. Others need to be educated," Lavinia pressed.  
  
"Yes, Potter, Weasley and Granger have had their fair share of adventure, but these past two years, so have others. In the Department of Mysteries two years ago it was not just the three of them who gallivanted off into unknown territory, others did as well. Last year more followed their example. We have already lost many to this war; more than you know. You don't have to tell the students that." Severus said, glaring fiercely at the woman in front of him.  
  
After the incident in the Department of Mysteries, the second war had begun. Many attacks had occurred during the summer and school terms; both on muggleborns and wizarding families. Incidentally many students had died during these attacks, and in an attack later on in the year which Harry Potter had blindly charged into with the aid of his friends. By the end of the second term they had lost almost a quarter of the muggleborns in the school as well as numerous elder wizarding families. However, as the sorrow had set in around the school, so had the suspicion, as the Slytherin house remained untouched. All who dwelled within, it seemed were safe. Severus knew better.  
  
"As informative as your lessons are, Lavinia, please refrain from the Dark Lord. Any other topic is suitable," said Severus, eyes cast downward as he remembered the previous year.  
  
"I'll stop the lessons on the Dark Lord," she said, voice soft.  
  
"That is all I ask. The headmaster will be pleased," said Severus, turning to go.  
  
"Severus, I'm not doing this for you or the headmaster. I'm doing this for the children," said Lavinia.  
  
Severus stopped in his tracks and whirled around on his heel; hair and robes flying. "Your reasons are none of my concern, as long as you do it,"  
  
"Must you be so cold?" Lavinia cried in indignation.  
  
Severus raised a curious eyebrow. "You hold such a high-and-mighty air and sneer at anyone who has the audacity to get near to you, physically and emotionally. Yet Dumbledore bends over backwards for you, you…filthy, hateful, spiteful traitor!" Lavinia cried.  
  
Severus glared at her, his eyes dark and glowing, "You know nothing. While you ran home with your tail between your legs, I stayed and fought for the ones I loved." He snapped.  
  
"Severus, I know far more than you would like me to. I know that you're playing both sides; stringing Dumbledore along with the notion that you're repenting your so-called misguided ways. I know that everything you've done for the Order, the blood you've spilt under the supposed pretense of Death Eater, was nothing more than a sham. You want to see us all dead. You want to kill us; even those who loved you once!" By now Lavinia had tears streaming down her cheeks, dripping onto the front of her robes.  
  
"How can you be so naive? How can you believe the filth that pours from your mouth so wholeheartedly that you would turn your back on your loved ones? You know nothing of what I've done. Do not place judgment on what you do not understand," said Severus.  
  
Lavinia raised a shaking hand to wipe away her tears, "You know nothing of love. Please don't pretend like the feelings of others mean anything to you, when all you will do is spit upon them. You leave those around you heartbroken, Severus, and all we can do is watch as you leave."  
  
Severus gazed at her, watching as she whipped her cheeks with her pale fingers and turned her back on him. Lavinia gripped the side of her desk, knuckles white with the force of which she held it. Severus took a tentative step towards her, eyes softening.  
  
"Lavinia I-"  
  
"Get out," she interrupted. "Get out. Get out!"  
  
Severus' softening gaze hardened once more and he stormed out of the office, slamming the door closed with such force that the sound echoed through the still hall. Once he left, turning the corner and retreating back to the safety and solitude of the dungeons, Lavinia crumpled to the ground. Her body was racked with broken sobs, her tears renewing with full force. Her pale hair fell about her face, blocking it from view of anyone who may enter, and her hands formed into fists on the cold stone floor. Somehow, against her will, the conversation had taken a turn for the worse. It brought up painful memories of what had been and what, Lavinia was sure, could never be again.  
  
X  
  
"Malfoy would you please hurry up? We're going to be late," Hermione cried up the stairs from her place in the common room.  
  
One of the duties as head of the student body, as Hermione had observed before, was to host the prefect meetings. Any new topics, chosen by Dumbledore, were to be discussed thoroughly before a decision was passed. That evening was to be their second meeting of the year and thus far Draco had failed to make it past the lavatory where he was currently situated.  
  
"Malfoy! Will you hurry the hell up?" Hermione yelled once more, gripping a piece of parchment tightly in her hand.  
  
"Alright Granger, I'm done, happy?" Draco said as he sauntered into the room.  
  
Hermione placed her hands on her hips and huffed, glaring at him in the process. Draco simply shrugged and swept passed her towards the portrait hole, pushing open the painting and stepping through leaving Hermione alone to quietly fume. After a moment or so she followed, hurriedly catching up to him on their long trek through the halls of Hogwarts.  
  
"Dumbledore has come up with many creative idea's to keep everyone's minds off the war, most of which are balls, but I'm not sure about them. What do you think?" said Hermione, turning to her partner as they descended the stairs.  
  
"What was that? Were you speaking Granger?" asked Draco, not sparing her a glance.  
  
"I was merely trying to get your opinion on some of Dumbledore's ideas. You have read them over, haven't you?" she said.  
  
"How could I when they have been in your sole possession since we received them?" Draco asked, heading down a sparsely lit hallway.  
  
"Oh, right, sorry about that," Hermione muttered, looking downward.  
  
The pair reached the classroom, finding it full of the house prefects. Hermione and Draco took their place at the front of the room, facing the somewhat bored expression of their lieutenants. Many were reclined in their seats, some had their heads placed on their desks and few were found to be paying even the smallest amount of attention.  
  
"Alright, lets get this started shall we?" said Hermione in a rather cheery voice. "The headmaster has given us a new list of ideas to keep the students minds off the war. He has given us the option of doing a ball for any occasion we choose, we can also do more than one if we want. Some examples he gave are Halloween, which is coming up soon, Christmas, Winter Solstice, Spring, Easter, End of the year, etcetera. Any ideas…comments?"   
  
"I think a ball would be a great idea. We haven't had one since the Yule Ball in forth year," said Lavender Brown.  
  
"Wouldn't a ball take away from our studies?" asked Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw prefect.  
  
"Oh come off it. When do we get a chance like this?" asked Blaise Zabini.  
  
"I think it's a marvelous idea," said Luna Lovegood.  
  
"Luna, how can you say that? No one would get any studying done, and these are our NEWT years," said Terry.  
  
"I'm in sixth year, I don't have NEWTS," said Luna.  
  
"But you should be getting a head start. Can't be too prepared I always say," said Terry.  
  
"I have much more pressing things to attend to," said Luna.  
  
"What, like trying to catch the Crumple Horned Snorkak you keep raving about? Be sensible," scoffed Terry.  
  
"I am,"  
  
"No, you're not. Being sensible would be concentrating on your studies, like we all should be," said Terry, eyeing everyone in the room.  
  
"Couldn't we at least have a bit of fun Terry?" asked a Hufflepuff prefect named Anna Pierson.  
  
"There is no time for fun when you have the NEWTS to worry about. The NEWTS are the most important exam you will ever take, no one should ignore them for some silly ball. The NEWTS-"  
  
"Oh will you both just shut up about the bloody NEWTS! Jesus Christ, I've had it up to here with you people," said Blaise, motioning to his chin with his hand.  
  
"I've got some great ideas for the ball!" cried Lavender.  
  
"Can we stop talking about this?" Ron asked, burying his head in his folded arms.  
  
"Will everyone just shut up!" cried Constance Green of Slytherin.  
  
The room suddenly became eerily quiet, the previous babble to voices having stopped altogether. Constance, who had been standing at the time, nodded her head in thanks and resumed her seat. She looked up at Hermione and Draco, waiting patiently for them to speak.  
  
"Now, as it seems the majority of you would like a ball, can we calmly agree on a date?" asked Hermione, nervously twisting the parchment in her hands.  
  
"I think Winter Solstice, as it gives the nice winter feel without restricting everyone to a certain religious holiday," said Constance.  
  
"Winter would be a nice pick-me-up, not too soon, but not too late," said Lavender.  
  
"A ball would be so nice that time of year," said Luna with a dreamy sigh.  
  
"With a show of hands, who agrees to a winter ball?" asked Hermione.  
  
Everyone, with the exception of Terry Boot, raised their hand, Hermione jotting down their decision on the rumpled parchment she held. Thus the remainder of the meeting passed relatively smoothly. However, throughout the entirety of the meeting, Hermione found that Draco voiced no opinion whatsoever. He didn't speak, didn't nod, but rather stood at Hermione's side silently while she conducted the meeting. Afterwards, once the prefects had returned to their respective houses, Hermione confronted him, placing herself firmly in front of their exit.  
  
"Move Granger I am in no mood," said Draco.  
  
"Then what mood are you in? First you made us late, then you do nothing during the whole meeting but stand there. Please, oh wonderful partner, tell me what type of mood are you in because I want you to get rid of it," said Hermione with a slightly sarcastic air.  
  
"Granger move or I will move you," said Draco, ignoring her question.  
  
"Answer me Malfoy," Hermione said, standing firm.  
  
"Granger, my mood is none of your business. I don't want to get into another debate about myself with you. Now move," said Draco.  
  
"You better start pulling your weight Malfoy. There is a reason why there are two of us,"  
  
"Why, so you could annoy the hell out of my every minute of every day?" asked Draco, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
  
"No, so that we could help each other. One of us is not supposed to do it all alone," said Hermione, hands on her hips.  
  
"Please do not start spouting a speech about Gryffindor teamwork. I do not care to listen to it," said Draco.  
  
"I wasn't going to! I know it's difficult for you, but could you please stop being such an infuriating git for one minute and let me speak?" Hermione said in frustration.  
  
"You know Granger, you're right," said Draco.  
  
Hermione looked at him, puzzled, "What?"  
  
"It is difficult for me to not be an 'infuriating git', as you so eloquently put it, so I'd rather not try," said Draco, smirking at her.  
  
Hermione cried out in frustration, burying her face in her hands. Without another thought Draco swept past her and into the hall. Draco Malfoy was possibly the most insufferable person she ever had the displeasure of being acquainted to, and more often than not his annoying qualities seemed to rub her the wrong way. While he perked her curiosity at times, his ability to irk her pushed any likeable quality he may posses aside. After all, they weren't considered enemies for nothing.  
  
Hermione slowly made her way to her common room, head bowed, carefully watching each step she took. In doing so she failed to notice an oncoming figure until it was too late and they had slammed rather forcefully into one another. The force sent Hermione to the ground where she sat, sore, looking up through tangled hair at who she had run in to. Standing above her, surprise written on his pale features, was her uncle. His hair was tousled and his brow was creased and upon looking at his niece his formerly hard gaze softened some.  
  
"Hermione, I apologize. I was distracted," said Severus softly.  
  
"It's alright, so was I," said Hermione, rising from the floor.  
  
The pair stood silently, neither finding anything else to say to one another. Hermione had bowed her head, finger's playing with the hem of her skirt. She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, nibbling on the soft flesh nervously. She was a mixture of emotions, her frustration with Draco adding to the tumult of feelings that had built since the summer holidays. Since school had begun she had bottled it all away, focusing her attention on her studies instead of her emotional problems. What she had assumed had been for the best was vastly proving false.  
  
"It is almost curfew, and Head Girl or no, you best be getting to bed Miss Granger," said Severus sternly, replacing all formalities.  
  
"Yes Professor," she said quietly, walking past him and further down the hall.  
  
As she walked past the unmoving figure of her uncle Hermione found the sudden urge to grab hold of him and bury her face into his robe-covered shoulder. However she did not stop, did not pause, and restrained any such feeling. She balled her hands around the parchment she still held and fought to retain her composure. She would not cry, she would not break down, she would not fill the hall with the sound of weeping. She would not let her emotions rule her, like they did so many others; like she was afraid one day they would be.  
  
A/N: Hope you like it. I know it was a bit slow, all that happened was a bit of fighting, and tell me if Hermione's frustration, anxiety and such are written well enough. I'm a bit worried about how I convey it. I added quite a bit about the Snape family, but incase your confused, and they will play a large part in the future, here is the small Snape family tree:  
  
Mr and Mrs Snape gave birth to Salazar Archimedes, Severus Demetrius, Annelise Elizabeth and Lenore Helena.  
  
Salazar married Amelia Green and had Stephano (19), Constance (17) and two twins who have since died. Constance goes by the name of Green because of the dislike Hogwarts students have for the Snape name.  
  
Severus has never married.  
  
Annelise married Tom Riddle and had Hermione (17) and later Tom Granger (11) with Henry Granger. Tom is known as a Snape during his schooling.  
  
Lenore married William Porter and had William the Second (16), Zelda (14), Quinn (13) and Elizabeth (8).  
  
Thank you's:  
  
Tara-Yo- thanks!  
  
lestrange24- thanks!  
  
paprika90- thanks, and you'll just have to wait and see. This chapter was more about Severus anyway.  
  
DanishGirl- thanks!  
  
Miskasa Wormhole- thanks!  
  
lgobgirlie15- cool penname by the way. You just have to wait and see! Thanks!  
  
Athena47- thanks!  
  
ghypscee- thanks! Pop ups annoy me too.  
  
the police are coming- thanks! 


	9. Chapter 8:Hogsmeade Visit

A/N: I've been in such a writing mood lately…I don't own anything. Please review!  
  
The Entrance Hall was extremely crowded on the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Bodies were packed together tightly and the gentle hum of excited chatter filled the chill air. The prefects had announced not two days previously that there was to be a winter ball on December 21st, the date of the Winter Solstice. Notices had been posted in every common room and it appeared to be the only thing anyone would talk about. Excitement had returned to the school and the once melancholy air that had permeated the walls of Hogwarts for the past two years was gone, if only momentarily.  
  
At present Hermione stood, pressed firmly against a wall, waiting for the crowd to dissipate. Next to her were Harry, Ron and Ginny, also against the stone wall. They stood in silence, conversation proving fruitless in the din, and each tried their best to remain patient through the wait. After a moment or so the crowd began to move and soon the small group was walking down the sloping lawn towards the small village. Cold air nipped at their exposed fingers and noses and Hermione felt her limbs beginning to grow stiff in the chill October air. A light breeze passed over them and tossed the fallen leaves about their feet, and the laughter and chatter of students rang through her ears.  
  
"Let's go to Zonko's, I've heard they have some new stuff," said Ron, bouncing on the balls of his feet.  
  
"Don't you want to get anything for the ball?" asked Ginny.  
  
"Who says I'm going?" asked Ron.  
  
"Hermione, let's go look at dress robes. We'll let the boys play with their toys," said Ginny, shaking her head at her brother.  
  
Ron glared, earning a giggle from Hermione as Ginny led her away. The pair wove in and out of the teeming streets, stumbling over the cobblestone road, Ginny anxiously trying to get to her chosen destination. The red head's enthusiasm for the ball seemed to be contagious as a broad grin overtook Hermione's face and she happily allowed Ginny to lead her into a robe shop. Upon entering, Ginny walked to the back of the store, leaving Hermione to browse through the shop filled with robes of all sizes and colours and for any occasion imaginable.  
  
"Need any help, dear?" asked the elderly shop owner.  
  
Hermione turned to her and smiled, "No, I'm alright,"  
  
"If you need anything, just ask," she said, brushing a stray piece of grey hair behind her ear.  
  
Hermione ran her hand through a rack of silk robes, the fabric soft beneath her rosy fingertips. She really had no intention of purchasing a robe on this particular trip, but Ginny didn't care about her intentions. As she neared the back of the shop Hermione was thrust into a changing stall and numerous robes were thrown over the top of the stall door. Hermione looked at them, utterly confused.  
  
"You'll love these Hermione. Try them," said Ginny from behind the door.  
  
"I'm not sure Gin," said Hermione, taking a rather shocking pink robe into her arms.  
  
"Trust me," said Ginny.  
  
Hermione slowly undressed and pulled on the robe, its feathered collar sticking to her lips and getting into her mouth. After a moment, wherein Hermione was sure she would never purchase this robe even if she was paid to, she stepped out of the stall and into the small hall. Ginny rose from her chair and walked over to her, smoothing out the velvet fabric.  
  
"Isn't it lovely?" asked Ginny, smiling at her and taking a step back.  
  
"Ginny, I don't think this is me," said Hermione.  
  
"Oh don't be silly," said Ginny. "Now try the next one."  
  
Hermione returned to the stall and pulled on the next robe, adjusting the clingy emerald fabric about her torso. She stepped out, received more poking, prodding and exclamations of just how beautiful she looked, and retreated back into the stall. This continued for quite some time, Ginny leaving and returning with armfuls of dress robes for Hermione to try. The third time new robes were thrust above the door; Hermione found she had had enough. She did not want to purchase any one of the robes she had tried on. None met her taste and she didn't think any one of them were flattering to her, anyway. However, during the entire process, Hermione thought back on how she had looked without the glamour. She thought of how she would look in dress robes had the unbecoming glamour been removed; ebony locks trailing down her back…silken robes with pale skin shinning beneath the soft fabric.  
  
"Gin, I want to pick the next one, please," said Hermione, pleading at the redhead with her eyes.  
  
"Oh alright," Ginny sighed, crossing her arms and sitting back down in the chair.  
  
Hermione smiled and walked off, still dressed in the previous robe. She stalked among the numerous rows, occasionally pulling out any robe that struck her fancy. As she meandered about, a single robe caught her eye. It had been shoved carelessly back onto the rack, devoid of hanger, and was almost to the ground. Carefully, feeling the chiffon beneath her fingertips, she lifted it from its loose prison and carried it back to the stall. Without a word she shut the door, tossed the previous robe to the side, slipping on the one she carried.  
  
Smiling, Hermione stepped out of the stall, earning a small gasp from Ginny. The robe fell to the floor, dragging behind her in a long train. Thin straps adorned her shoulders and a looped pattern was woven into the bust. It hugged her body in a way she never thought possible for a girl of such a plain stature and the blood red fabric cast a pale hue to her skin. "It's beautiful," said Ginny in awe.  
  
"You think so?" asked Hermione happily, twirling about, wide grin adorning her lips.  
  
"It is. You should defiantly get it," said Ginny, nodding affirmatively.  
  
Hermione ran her hands over the dress, searching for the price. Hidden amongst the folds of fabric, Hermione spied the white tag, pulling it, as well as part of the dress, closer to her face. "It's so expensive Gin," Hermione said with a frown.  
  
"Hermione, it's perfect for you. I'm sure you'll get more than one wear out of it anyway. Just organize another ball," said Ginny with a smile.  
  
As she stared at the tag, Hermione began an internal debate. Of all the things she could spend her money on, her parent's money for that matter; she wanted to use it on a beautiful but horribly expensive dress robe. Despite what Ginny said, she probably wouldn't get much wear out of it after the ball. After all, in a sense Terry Boot had been right; it was their NEWT year and they needed all the time they could get to study.  
  
"Oh come on Hermione, just buy it," said Ginny.  
  
"I'm not sure."  
  
"Just do it. You'll look beautiful, have the time of your life at the ball, and have a bright spot in the whole war. Get it," said Ginny.  
  
"All right, I'll get it," said Hermione, dropping the price tag from her fingers and returning to the stall to change.  
  
Hermione and Ginny exited the shop, both slightly poorer, yet much happier. Ginny had outgrown her dress robes from the previous ball and had bought a lovely periwinkle robe. Despite the price, it was two sizes too big, and she planned to fix it was a few charms her mother had taught her. As they walked the cobbled streets, Hermione found they were heading in the general direction of the Three Broomsticks. The pair entered the warm and inviting pub and took seats at a small table near the bar. Ginny left her things with Hermione and went to get drinks from the rather long line at the bar. Hermione sat, drumming her fingers on the table top, gazing at her shoes with a rather tired expression on her face. As she sat there, mind in no particular avenue, she heard the scrape of a chair and looked up to see someone seated in Ginny's vacant seat.  
  
"Um, excuse me, that seat is taken," said Hermione to the girl in front of her.  
  
The girl turned towards her, "Is it? I'm sorry. I just needed to sit down, it's so crowded in here," she said.  
  
"I know. If you want, you can stay here until my friend gets back," said Hermione, smiling to her.  
  
The girl nodded and turned in her seat, facing Hermione straight on. The girl pushed a piece of hair away from her face, hair that was so deep an auburn that it was almost black. Black eyes shone with happiness, eyes that had Hermione been looking closer would have resembled that of her uncle. She smiled at her, and the girl extended her well-manicured hand across the table.  
  
"I'm Constance Green," she said, shaking Hermione's hand, "You're Hermione Granger right? The Head Girl?"  
  
"Yes, that's right. Aren't you one of the prefects?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Yes, for Slytherin. I'm the one who yelled during our last meeting," she said a little sheepishly.  
  
"Thanks, by the way. It was a real help," said Hermione, smiling.  
  
"No problem. Next time you want me to silence a room full of arguing prefects, just tell me," Constance offered.  
  
They continued to talk, passing the time until Ginny returned from the seemingly endless line. During that time Hermione learned a few things about her Slytherin companion. She was from a wealthy family, had an elder brother, had few friends in Slytherin due to her fraternizing with other houses and was very apt in Transfiguration. She had good grades which earned her the position of prefect in sixth year and unlike most from her house did not enjoy the taunting and belittling of others. Hermione liked her company, took pleasure in talking to her about classes and what they planned to study after Hogwarts. Despite not having spoken to her prior to this moment, Hermione openly shared things with her; glad to have found another female friend.  
  
"Arithmancy isn't really that difficult once you get past the basics," said Hermione.  
  
"I know, but I was never good with numbers. When I first took it I thought I understood it, but once we moved into charts and graphs and even more complex formulas I just couldn't do it," Constance explained.  
  
"Formulas are my favorite part of the course," said Hermione excitedly, "I love being able to take an equation and expand on it; or simplify, as the case may be."  
  
"Well, I just never understood it. I've moved on to Muggle Studies,"  
  
"How do you like it?"  
  
"It's alright I guess. I've never really interacted with muggles, being a pureblood and all, but they are quite interesting. They have so many things that wizards just haven't been bothered to use, like television. Wouldn't it be a faster way of getting news instead of always having to wait for the Prophet?"  
  
"It would, but wizards just haven't advanced that far, which is quite a shame. There are so many things we could do with muggle technology, perhaps even advance it further, if we only overcame this giant superiority complex,"  
  
"You're right. We do seem to be crippling ourselves by considering ourselves higher than muggles. We have so much to offer each other, but because most are too high-and-mighty, it seems we will always be separate from each other."  
  
"My friends thought I was a little mad, taking Muggle Studies and being a muggleborn, but I wanted to see the wizarding perspective on things that I was so used to. I've seen muggle devices and technologies as being perfectly normal, and it was the wizarding world that really enthralled me, but once I became more used to it, I found that I wanted to see the same enthrallment with the muggle world," said Hermione, excitedly.  
  
"I think that's pretty interesting; taking different perspectives on two worlds," Constance remarked, smiling.  
  
"At least someone does," Hermione mumbled with a slight frown.  
  
"Hey, my brother can never understand why I take that class; insisting that anything we needed to know about the muggle world we learnt from our tutors,"  
  
"Tutors?" asked Hermione with curiosity.  
  
"Most wizarding families have their children schooled with tutors before Hogwarts. We learn etiquette, reading, writing, arithmetic, music, language and a little about the muggle world incase we are ever caught there unawares."  
  
"I always wondered what wizards did before starting Hogwarts, in terms of education,"  
  
"Well, I know that some half-bloods go to Muggle School, mostly on their muggle parent's insistence. Muggleborns go to Muggle School, obviously, and purebloods have private tutors," Constance explained. "Everyone in my family has been tutored: my brother and I, before we came to Hogwarts, as well as my cousins. My little cousin Elizabeth, who is only eight, is still being tutored regularly."  
  
"What else is there?" Hermione asked, somewhat enthralled.  
  
"Well, there's music: mostly piano, voice and violin. Equestrian, falconry and polo for sport, as most don't favor muggle sports much. Dancing, proper etiquette, and a bit of geography and history," said Constance.  
  
As Hermione listened, she was struck with a sudden realization. Her mother, who from what she had been told was quite wealthy and well-off, had obviously been taught all of what Constance was currently listing. As such, it only made sense for Annelise to pass this on to her children in absence of a wizarding tutor. Hermione had taken piano and voice lessons, though she was certainly not a champion in voice. She had ridden horses every weekend, had taken numerous dance classes and been reprimanded on her sometimes poor manners. Without Hermione knowing it, she had been schooled like any pureblood witch.  
  
"Hey, Hermione, could you grab these drinks from me before I spill them?" asked the voice of Ginny from next to Constance.  
  
Hermione took the two filled mugs of butterbeer, placing them on the table. Ginny flexed her sore fingers and smiled at her friend, coming to look at her occupied seat.  
  
"I'm sorry; Hermione was just letting me sit here for a while. Here," said Constance, rising from the chair and offering it to Ginny.  
  
"Oh, thanks," said Ginny, sitting down.  
  
"I'll see you later then Hermione," said Constance.  
  
"Oh. Alright. Bye," said Hermione raising a hand in farewell.  
  
Hermione watched as Constance walked off, returning to the group she had left some time ago. She sipped her drink, feeling that familiar warmth spread through her with every sip. Once she could no longer see Constance through the crowd, Hermione turned back to a curious Ginny, who was eyeing her with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Who was that?"  
  
"Constance Green. She's a Slytherin prefect from our year," Hermione said, taking another sip.  
  
"Slytherin?" Ginny commented warily.  
  
"Now Ginny, she's really very nice. We had a nice talk,"  
  
Ginny sighed, taking a sip of butterbeer, "Alright, if you say so. Though it's not often you see a nice Slytherin."  
  
Hermione nodded, setting down her mug. As she did so, the door to the pub flew open in a flurry of wind and fallen leaves. Robes wrapped tightly around them and walking swiftly towards their table were Harry and Ron. Their faces were red with cold and they were furiously rubbing their hands together in an attempt to warm them. When they reached the table, they quickly found two other chairs and joined Ginny and Hermione.  
  
"Merlin, its cold out," remarked Ron, blowing onto his hands.  
  
"How was Zonko's?" asked Ginny, taking a sip from her glass mug.  
  
"It was great," said Ron, suddenly spying the warm drink in his sister's hand. "Where'd you get that?"  
  
"Honestly Ron, at the bar," said Ginny.  
  
"Can you get me one?" he asked, smiling widely.  
  
"Have you seen the size of that line? Everyone at Hogwarts seems to be in it. If you want one, you can go stand in it. I'm not going back," said Ginny, taking a long swig of her butterbeer.  
  
Ron began to grumble, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath, before getting up and moving to stand in the extremely long line. Whilst he stood impatiently, the remaining three took up the conversation once again, both girls listening half-heartedly as Harry told them the newest inventions in Zonko's.  
  
During Harry's tale, which became even more elaborate once Ron returned from the bar, Hermione found her eyes wandering around the crowded pub; glancing at every face that passed through her line of vision. A few teachers sat in a far-off corner of the pub, chatting and sipping their drinks with wide grins on their faces. A group of students from Slytherin, Constance among them, were sitting at two tables pushed together playing a large game of Exploding Snap. More students from other houses were squeezed into every corner of the pub, butterbeer slicked the floor and the occasional chill wind blew in from the door. Whilst everyone else was mingling, laughing with their friends and reveling in the warm atmosphere, a quartet of Slytherins sat at a small table off to the side. Crabbe and Goyle, both large, hulking boys, were laughing stupidly, butterbeer dripping down their chins. A dark-haired boy named Blaise Zabini quietly read a leather-bound book, and sitting next to him, eyes meeting Hermione's own, was Draco Malfoy. Draco looked horribly bored, sitting there with no one to talk to. His arms were crossed and a look of utter disgust for two of his companions was upon his face. He was dressed, as always, in his school uniform, and his grey eyes were hard set.  
  
Despite her best efforts, Hermione couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from the steely-eyed Slytherin. Their eyes bore into one another, trying to silently pass a conversation between them without attracting attention. After moments of this motionless staring, Draco nodded his head in the direction of Crabbe and Goyle, who were currently laughing so hard, butterbeer was shooting out of their noses, and rolled his eyes. Hermione giggled, covering her hand with her mouth and taking a glance at her friends from the corner of her eye. With as little movement as she could manage, Hermione pointed to Harry and Ron, feigning a yawn as she did so. Draco smirked and quirked an eyebrow, receiving a glare from Hermione at his sarcastic insinuation. After a moment Draco lowered his brow and leaned back in his chair, cocking his head to one side. Hermione, smiling to herself, did the same, following every motion he made afterwards.  
  
Their pantomime continued for some time until Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning her gaze from Draco, she looked at her three friends who were eyeing her curiously.  
  
"What are you looking at Hermione?" asked Harry, brow furrowed in confusion.  
  
"Oh, it's nothing really," Hermione stammered, feeling her face begin to heat, "It's nothing at all."  
  
With one last, slightly regretful look, she turned her attention back to her friends. Shaking her head to relieve herself of the blush she had so suddenly grown. She listened to them talk, occasionally putting in a comment or two, but soon found herself unable to be interested in something other than her silent conversation with Draco.  
  
x  
  
The Common room was warm when she returned, lit by the crackling fire. Hermione felt it heat her chilled skin which was rosy and stiff from the cold. They had remained in Hogsmeade for some time, returning to the school before dinner was served. She had parted from her friends shortly after dinner, heading first to the library to check out a book. She had been welcomed warmly by the Founders in the portrait and was currently curled up on a sofa covered in a warm throw. Her book was on her lap and she was slowly reading through it, feeling sleep beginning to grasp her. As evening pressed on, the moon, now high outside her window, cast its silvery light across the floor. Suddenly she heard the sound of the portrait hole opening and turned in her seat to watch as Draco calmly walked through.  
  
"You're back quite late," Hermione commented, watching him as he stretched languidly.  
  
He said nothing to her, a rather wide yawn being her only response. Hermione huffed in annoyance, knowing that their pseudo-conversation had been completely forgotten by her partner.  
  
"You could say 'hello' you know," she said.  
  
Draco once again ignored her, walking up the steps to his room, pulling off his outer robe as he did so. With a sigh Hermione tried once again to get his attention, not bothering to wonder why she did so, "Malfoy, do you have to be so rude? You could at least acknowledge me," she huffed.  
  
Draco paused on the stairs, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder. He had a rather blank look on his face, but in his eyes… Hermione saw a swirl of emotion that she couldn't quite name. He seemed bored, irritated and thoroughly uncaring, but there was also something else… like yearning, uncertainty and worry. She didn't know how long she gazed into his overcast eyes, but she was soon aware of his raised eyebrow and found her previous fascination gone.  
  
"See something you like Granger?" asked Draco with a smirk.  
  
Hermione's brow furrowed and her eyes set in a glare, "No, just a piece of pond scum," she said.  
  
"How flattering Granger. You're opinion of me gets better as the days pass," replied Draco, voice dripping with sarcasm and a false smile on his lips.  
  
"It's not hard to have an opinion of you as low as mine is. It comes naturally," she sneered.  
  
Draco once again raised an eyebrow, "Touchy, touchy Granger. Do you kiss the Weasel with that mouth?" he said, clucking his tongue.  
  
"Do you kiss Parkinson with yours?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Not with a ten foot pole," Draco shuddered, continuing up the stairs.  
  
"Must you always have the last word?" asked Hermione, marching to the bottom of the stairs.  
  
"Always," he sneered.  
  
"It must be a gift then," she said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your ability to be an infuriating, loathsome, immature git. Why, haven't you noticed?" Hermione called up the flight, feeling triumph at hand.  
  
Draco slowly descended the stairs; arms crossed, "Actually Granger, it takes years of hard work and dedication to be even half the man I am."  
  
"Oh really?" Hermione said, "Well then, I guess you'll never get those wasted years back."  
  
"Unlike some, I have a bit of refinement, and that doesn't come easily. But, you wouldn't know about that would you? Raised by muggles and all. I'm surprised you don't act like the insect you are."  
  
By now Draco was extremely close to her, his breath wafting directly into her face. Hermione could smell his musky cologne, and as he leaned forward, invading every bit of her personal space, Hermione had the fleeting thought that he might try to kiss her. However, his words had made her red-faced with anger and it took all her control not to hex him where he stood.  
  
"Do try and work on that, will you?" asked Draco, raising a hand to flick the tip of her nose with his index finger. "Tah, Granger."  
  
As he sauntered back up the stairs to his room, Hermione hoped against hope that he would trip and fall on his stuck-up ass.  
  
A/N: Once again, we end on a fight. I've really got to stop doing that huh? Anyway, I hope you like it. It went a bit slow, but I promise it will pick up in the next few chapters. Also, I have NOT abandoned this fic. I am just very slow and have very little time on my hands. Also, a small case of writers block. I can't help it, it's my senior year, and I'm going nuts on extra stuff. Sorry. Please stick with this fic, it will be finished.  
  
Thank you to my beta Zvezdana.  
  
Thank you's:  
  
Megan- as you can see, the only development in the Draco department happens to be anger-fueled. Thank you!  
  
paprika90- you'll just have to wait and see! Thanks!  
  
anonymous- thanks!  
  
Dracoluver2009- thanks!  
  
Zvezdana- you get more thanks than anyone. My grammar is awful, I must say.  
  
DansihGirl- thanks!  
  
unchartedfate- thanks! What does your penname stand for?  
  
the police are coming- I'm sorry, I'm very slow. I have not abandoned this fic!  
  
lylangelgurl- thanks! I am not abandoning this fic.  
  
slyswn28- what? 


	10. Chapter 9:A Task for Lucius

A/N: Here's the next chapter, I hope you like it!

Riddle Manor was as quiet as a tomb in the late October evening. Death Eaters meandered about, talking in low voices and waiting for instruction while others watched carefully for intruders.

The manor had been fully restored after the Dark Lord's awakening two years prior, as it had been utterly ransacked by Aurors almost sixteen years ago. The Dark Lord himself had once again taken up his quarters, and the regal atmosphere that the manor once held had returned; without a few differences of course.

In 1994, after battling Harry Potter, Lord Voldemort had immediately inquired as to the location of his wife and child. He knew that they had most likely fled the manor, possibly seeking refuge in the home of family member or a high-ranking Death Eater. Having asked all those present at the awakening, he found the whereabouts of his family unknown. His wife had not sought refuge anywhere that night, and both she and the child were presumed dead by the entire wizarding community. Even Severus, Annelise's brother, hadn't a clue as to where she was and was as much aggrieved as the Lord himself. Even two years after the news had been given; Tom Riddle was still in pain.

He had taken to locking himself in his room, and while most thought he was plotting numerous vile ways to kill Harry Potter, he was in fact mourning the loss of this wife and daughter. Contrary to popular belief, he did love his wife, more than anything in the world, and had thought to reign over the wizarding world with her by his side. He also loved their child, and while he did detest the fact that he had a daughter instead of a son, he found it was hard not to care for her. Plans had been made concerning little Hermione's future, plans that had taken months before and after her birth to concoct, and now it as all for nothing. She was dead.

"My lord," came the hesitant voice of Wormtail from behind the oak door.

Voldemort sighed heavily, drawing his robes closer to him. He sat in a high-backed chair covered in rich red upholstery. He had taken to sitting here, thinking about his wife and staring out the tall window to the garden below. The garden she had loved so much. After all these years, it was horribly overgrown. Plants had run wild, ivy covered the stone paths and many flowers and ferns were dead and brown. All year 'round there was a chill in the air and except for weeds and ivy nothing seemed to flourish. Just as he was getting quite deep in his thoughts, summoning up another memory of his late wife, this one of her sitting surrounded by flowers, belly round with pregnancy, there was another knock on the door.

"My lord, L-Lucius Malfoy is he-here to see you," Wormtail's voice was shaking, as it always did in any situation.

"Send him in," Voldemort sighed.

The door opened and Lucius Malfoy strode in, immaculate black robes billowing around him. Quietly he walked to the side of the Dark Lord, silver-tipped cane tapping on the floor with each step. Lucius looked forward, head held high, not a hair out of place, waiting for the Dark Lord to speak first.

"Why are you here Lucius," he asked.

"I am here to collect my orders, my Lord," said the blond man, not once meeting the Lord's eyes.

Voldemort sighed once more, knowing full well that Lucius would never leave without orders to torment some muggle. After all, it had been Voldemort who had decided to see Lucius in the first place, and he didn't want the man thinking less of him when he was too melancholy to dish out orders. It took some time before he remembered what he wanted Lucius to accomplish, but when he did, a sadistic grin spread across his snake-like face.

"You told me that Miss Granger is a thorn in your side, is that correct?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Lucius.

"I think you will like this task Lucius," at this the Dark Lord grinned. "I want you to travel to the Granger residence, and kill all who lie inside. Take Nott and Crabbe, the job shouldn't be too difficult. After all, they are only muggles."

A smiled spread across Lucius' pale face, "Yes my Lord."

"Everything you need to know should be on a piece of parchment on the desk. I expect them dead my midnight," Voldemort hissed, evil pleasure in his slit eyes.

Lucius nodded, "Yes my Lord."

"You are dismissed Lucius," said the Dark Lord, eyes becoming distant and withdrawn.

Lucius turned, plucked the parchment off the desk and swept out of the room. He brushed past Wormtail, who stood quivering by the door, and walked down the hall to the stairs. He quickly made his way to the dinning room where he found Crabbe, Goyle, and a few other Death Eaters stuffing themselves with pilfered food from the kitchens in an unattractive fashion. The few who weren't eating were laughing uproariously, slapping each other's backs. Lucius scowled, turning his eyes on the two he came for.

"Nott, Crabbe, the Dark Lord has a task for you," he ordered.

Both men nodded and rose from their seats, following Lucius from the room. They gathered their cloaks, masks, and ran over the destination numerous times before finally apparating to the Granger residence. Lucius stood in front of the rather humble abode, slipping the smooth white mask over his face. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, covering all of his smooth blonde hair, and watched as his companions did the same. Before breaking into the house, however, he paused to survey his target. Dead leaves were littered at his feet and three pumpkins sat on the front porch. Lights were on inside the house, bathing the lawn in a warm glow, and the sound of a television set filtered out through the glass windows. With a sinister smile, Lucius glided forward.

Annelise and Henry Granger were sitting calmly on the sofa when their front door burst open. It swung violently on its hinges; bouncing off the wall with such a force Annelise was sure there would be a dent. Both she and Henry stood quickly, watching with horrified expressions as three men swathed in black strode into their home. Turning to her husband, Annelise could see he was frightened; his face pale, eyes wide. Slowly she saw Henry moving backwards, towards a wall. Annelise remained as she was, unmoving, and watched in horror as her husband pressed himself flat against the wall. One of the Death Eater's advanced, causing Henry to cower even further. The man raised his wand, light gleaming off its polished surfaced, and prepared to strike. Suddenly, with the only ounce of courage he could muster, Henry dove forward and tried to grab the wand from the man's hand.

"Damnit!" cried the man, taking a step back.

Henry missed the wand, but did manage to pull the hood from the man's head, revealing a platinum blonde head that Annelise knew all too well. Henry, tripping over the area rug, released the hood and fell to the floor. He lay, sprawled on his stomach shaking horribly, all courage gone.

"Bloody muggle," spat the man.

In his anger, the man landed a swift kick to Henry's side, issuing a groan from the helpless muggle. Annelise stood stock still as the Death Eater raised his wand once more, laughing maniacally as he did so, goaded by Henry's whimpers.

"One less muggle in the world," he sneered. "Avada Kadavera!"

There was a blinding flash of green light, once it receded Henry had ceased to move. His shaking had stopped, as had his whimpering, and the sporadic rise and fall of this chest had ceased. The Death Eater, still enraged, kicked Henry once more, causing the body to flop in a rather disgusting manner.

"Now, for you," he said, turning to Annelise.

"Aw, can't we play with her first?" asked another man. Annelise could hear him smile sickly.

"Not today, Nott," said the other man.

"You spoil all my fun Malfoy," Nott sneered.

That name was all it took to get Annelise moving. As quickly as she could, she ran around the sofa and grabbed her purse from where it hung on the coat rack. The Death Eaters, stunned by her abrupt movement, fumbled with their wands just as she drew hers.

"What the hell is this?" cried Nott. "She's supposed to be muggle!"

"Yes, she is. Granger is a muggleborn. How the hell did she get a wand?" Lucius hissed.

"Why don't we just kill her and ask questions later?" whispered Crabbe, who had thus far remained silent.

"It's that sort of attitude that can get you into trouble," said Lucius, remembering previous occasions when Crabbe had done such a thing, angering the Dark Lord.

"I know you want to kill me," said Annelise in a rather shaky voice.

"However did you think of that?" asked Nott sarcastically.

"But," Annelise glared, "I don't think your Lord would be very happy if you did."

She knew it was a very risky and stupid thing to do. She was supposed to hide herself, be careful, and not tell anyone who she was under any circumstances. However, with three Death Eater's standing in her living room with their wands trained on her, she thought that this was a circumstance where the rules needed a little bending. She thought it was time to be revealed, and return to the wizarding world.

"And why, pray tell, would he be displeased?" asked Lucius, intrigued.

"Because, Lucius, I would think he would want his wife alive," Annelise smirked.

"The Dark Lady is dead," Lucius spat.

"No," said Annelise, mustering up all her courage to do this one act. "She is very much alive,"

She took a deep breath and pointed her wand at herself, whispering a soft spell. Her glamour melted away, leaving behind a dark haired woman with onyx eyes trained upon her attackers. Gasps sounded around her and Lucius tore off his mask. His eyes were wide in disbelief, as were those of his companions. Cautiously, he took a step forward, wand dropping to the floor, astounded by what he saw. Annelise could not help the smirk that spread across her face; she had rendered Lucius Malfoy speechless.

"It can't be," he breathed, "You haven't been seen in sixteen years."

"I've been here, hiding," she said.

"Why didn't you return?"

"I didn't know anything. Hermione doesn't like to talk about the war, so I rarely know about the goings on in our world. She tells me very little, not wanting to upset me," she lied.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Lucius," Annelise smiled. "Hermione is alive, and currently residing in Hogwarts, along with my son."

"Son?"

"Henry wanted a child of his own. So, I gave him Tom," she said.

Lucius looked thoughtful, mulling everything she had said over in his head. After all, he had just learned that the one girl who seemed to best his son at everything, by all rights should. To think he was trying to defeat the heir to the dark throne. However, something pricked at the corner of his mind.

"I knew there was something odd about you. When I saw you in August. There was something in your eyes that seemed oddly familiar." Lucius said

Annelise laughed a little, in spite of everything. Even after all the years away from the wizarding world, from the people she knew and cared about, after everything had changed so drastically, some things remained constant. Lucius still never missed a thing.

"You're coming with us," he said gruffly.

"I know,"

"Once we send up the Dark Mark the Ministry will be here within minutes,"

"I understand,"

"My lady, we must hurry," said Lucius in his most courteous tone; one he reserved only for the Dark Lord and Death Eaters of higher rank than himself.

Annelise nodded, stopping herself as she reached for her coat. To the rest of the wizarding world and, for a time, even her children, it had to look like a kidnapping. On Lucius' orders, Nott and Crabbe were mussing the house to give the appearance of a struggle. Annelise watched this with vague interest, all her attention focused on Henry who lay still on the floor. Ever since Tom's birth, she had deceived him, lied to him about who she really was. While he may have been happy not knowing, with his memory obliviated, Annelise still felt awful for keeping so many secrets on from the man she was supposed to love.

On their wedding day, she had sworn to be honest and faithful to her husband, yet she couldn't remember the last time she was honest with him. She had lied to keep him safe, but no good intention could justify what she was doing. Now she was leaving him, lying on their living room floor, for a world he didn't understand and a man he would never meet. A sick feeling welled in the pit of her stomach and tears sprang up in here eyes, rolling down her cheeks. All of her deceit, all of her good intentions…had killed him.

"My Lady, we must leave," said Lucius.

Annelise nodded, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. Lucius took her by the elbow, unsure of her aparating ability. He led her around the body of her husband, his face blank. As they passed, Annelise stopped, a tear falling onto his motionless body.

"I am so sorry Henry," she whispered, sniffling.

Lucius led her outside where Nott was conjuring the Dark Mark in the sky above the house. They stood for a moment after it was completed, staring at the neon glow of the skull and snake. It bathed the house and lawn in green, a gruesome calling card that stood for the entire world to see. One by one, they aparated away, leaving an open door in their wake.

It wasn't much later when Aurors and Ministry officials had flooded the Granger house, scouring every inch for clues as to Annelise's whereabouts. Medi-wizards transported Henry's body to St. Mungo's to determine the cause of death and to store him in the morgue. Others, however, were looking at the many family photos that adorned the walls and mantel. They knew that the children, who were currently attending Hogwarts, would have to be notified; come to claim the body of their father and sign many forms concerning his demise. They would also have to inform them of their mother's disappearance and establish their next-of-kin. This unpleasant task was given to the head Auror on the case. They all hated it, but it was a necessity in cases such as this.

X

Bernard Hanson had enough on his plate without the composition of a letter. As the head Auror on the Granger case, however, it was his duty. Grabbing a piece of parchment, he inked his quill and began to scrawl the formal, but sympathetic letter. He found that, as the war progressed, more and more of these letters were getting written, and no matter how many times he did it and how much of an inconvenience it was, he never got used to it. When he had finished, Bernard read it over, checking for spelling mistakes and that the correct information was enclosed. The letter read:

Dear Miss Granger,

It is my duty to inform you that there has been a Death Eater attack on your house around the hour of nine o'clock in the evening. There were two casualties in the attack, and we request your presence at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries to properly identify one of there casualties. I regret to inform you that the whereabouts of your mother are currently unknown, a situation which will be better explained on a later date.

Please owl the Ministry of Magic to set up a proper appointment within the next few days.

I am sorry for your loss,

Bernard Hanson Auror, Ministry of Magic

Once satisfied, Bernard scrawled a similar letter to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, informing him of the tragedy that had befallen one of his students. Once finished, he stamped each with the Ministry crest, put them in two envelopes, sealed them with wax and left his desk for the local owlry. It was but a quick walk to such said place, and after paying the shop keeper Bernard looked around, frigid air swirling around him. The ground was covered with feathers and droppings and the cold October air filtered in through the open windows. Bernard rubbed his arms for warmth as he picked a rather large tawny owl to deliver the letters. Despite the cold, he was happy to get away from the office, which was covered in horrid Halloween decorations. He swore that on November first the first thing he was going to do was incinerate every last streamer.

The owl took off, a gust of wind whipping around the hairs on Bernard's head. With a sad sigh he turned and left, a cold rush of air hitting him hard upon exiting the building. By morning the letters would arrive at Hogwarts and yet another person would be pained by the deeds of the Dark Lord.

A/N: This is the chapter I have been waiting to write. I've known how it was going to play out for months, but it was a matter of getting the preceding chapters out first. I hope you like it.

Thanks to my beta Zvezdana!

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	11. Chapter 10:These Tears We Cry

A/N: I present to you…the tenth chapter! This chapter is dedicated to cc04sweet, my 100th reviewer. The review, which was her third, made this my most reviewed fic to date. Thanks so much, and sorry for the wait!

Morning sunlight filtered in through the high windows of the Great Hall, sun brightly shining from the enchanted ceiling. Large pumpkins sat in the corners of the hall, bats flew above the heads of the eating students and fallen leaves were strung in garlands along tables and rafters. It was the morning of October thirty-first, Halloween, and every student was talking excitedly about the feast that evening. Students milled around their house tables, eating and talking and making plans for that day's activities. Harry and Ron were no different, talking adamantly about practicing Quidditch later in afternoon. Hermione, however, did not share in their enthusiasm and was currently reading from a book propped up against a milk jug.

"Come on Hermione, please just watch us for a little while," Ron begged.

"We'll be really quick, promise," Harry added.

"You two are perfectly capable of playing without my attention," Hermione mumbled from behind her book.

"But then you'll sit in the library all day and we'll never see you," complained Ron. "Can't you please just sit in the stands? We'll only be an hour, tops."

Hermione sighed, setting down her fork. She understood their eagerness: with Professor Snape gone for the day, the boys were instilled with a new sense of freedom. This freedom seemed to grasp the whole school, and while the Slytherins were forlorn at the sudden, if brief, loss of their house master, no one seemed to mind his absence. Hermione felt sorry for her uncle, whose leaving caused great joy throughout the school. Although he was a wonderful professor, his disdainful attitude was not favored by his students. Despite the fact that she knew Severus wouldn't care much about how anyone reacted to his leaving, she still pitied the man.

"Hermione, with the Greasy Git gone, we can do anything," said Harry.

"And I intend to," Ron quipped.

Hermione leaned back in her seat, turning her head to look at the staff table. The headmaster was having an animated conversation with Professor Flitwick, O'Riley was reading the morning paper, McGonagall was grading papers in between spoonfuls of porridge, and none seemed to notice the empty space that Snape had once occupied. She sighed deeply, turning her gaze back to her friends.

"Oh all right. I guess I'll come along, but just for an hour," said Hermione.

Both boys smiled, thanked her, and resumed their conversation. As breakfast progressed, Hermione heard the flutter of wings and a hoard of owls swooped into the hall, parcels and letters tied to their legs and clutched in their beaks. Hermione turned away from the scene, knowing full well that there was nothing for her, and resumed her reading. However, a letter did fall in front of her. The tawny owl that had delivered it dropped a similar one in the lap of Professor Dumbledore, and then flew off without a moment's pause. Curiously, Hermione lifted the letter, unfamiliar with the hand it was written in. She broke the wax seal and slipped the parchment out of the envelope, noticing immediately the Ministry of Magic crest. What she read caused her heart to stop in her chest.

Her father, the man who had raised her, cared for her, loved her, was dead. The letter, written with so little heart, calmly upturned her life in a matter of sentences. Death Eaters had broken into her home killed her father and kidnapped her mother. Tears sprang to her eyes, a lump rrose in her throat, and she felt the urge to be sick. Her mind was reeling, hoping against hope that somehow her mother was alright, that she wasn't harmed and that they would see each other again. She swiftly glanced down the table at her brother, who was happily talking with his friends. He was a Snape in the eyes of the Ministry, and was completely ignorant of the tragedy that had befallen their family. Hermione's hands fisted, crushing the parchment they held. Her gaze turned to her headmaster, whose face was white and sorrowful. He had risen in his chair, hands resting on the table top, many eyes on him. Hermione opened her mouth, trying to speak, but the only sound she made was that of a choking sob. Tears poured freely down her cheeks, and with every sob she felt her chest constrict. It hurt to breathe, to cry, and a sharp pain slashed through her heart.

"Hermione?" asked Harry, worry in his voice.

"What's wrong?" Ron's voice was confused.

Hermione couldn't seem to answer them as she sobbed, pushing herself out of her seat. She stumbled away from the table, turning and fleeing the Great Hall. Her friends called after her, Dumbledore moved to follow her, but she kept running. She flung open the doors of the Entrance Hall, heading down the stone steps to the lake. Fallen leaves whirled around her on the high fall breeze, cold air permeating her thin robe. Hermione stumbled down the slope, vision blurred by tears. Her jeans became grass stained, her limbs stiffened, and the bitter wind rubbed her exposed skin raw. Tripping over her feet, Hermione finally collapsed at the edge of the lake. She cried on her hands and knees, sobs shaking her thin frame. She pounded the ground with her fists, tore up the letter that was still grasped in her hand and screamed till her throat was raw. Hermione never could understand why things had to happen this way.

"Why?" she choked, "Why did he have to die? He didn't do anything. He didn't deserve any of this. He was innocent."

Hermione sniffed, tears dribbling down the front of her robes, "This is all my fault. He's dead because of me, he died because of me," she cried.

Amidst her sobs, she found she couldn't breath, and she gasped for breath raggedly. She dug her fingernails into the ground, clawing and piercing it with every pain her heart made. As she cried, Hermione felt a pair of arms encircle her, stroking her hair. Professor McGonagall held her student to her, rocking Hermione gently as the girl cried. Dumbledore stood by her side, Harry and Ron flanking him. As Hermione cried, McGonagall raised her head, looking at the headmaster with questioning eyes.

"What should we do Albus?" she asked, voice quivering.

"Bring her up to my office Minerva. We'll discuss things there," Dumbledore instructed after a moment's pause.

McGonagall nodded, helping Hermione to her feet. With the aid of Harry and Ron, the group managed to make it to Dumbledore's office and settle the sobbing Hermione into a chair. Taking a hint from Dumbledore, Harry and Ron reluctantly excused themselves to their sobbing friend and turned to wait outside. Dumbledore did little to comfort Hermione, answering the Ministry's owl, setting a few books aside and allowing the girl seated in front of him to unload her grief the best she could. It was some time before Hermione's sobs weakened to a mere sniffle and Dumbledore turned to see his puffy Head Girl.

"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" he inquired.

Hermione nodded, "Yes Headmaster."

Dumbledore nodded, taking a seat at his desk. He folded his hands before him, long fingers entwining, and looked her straight in the eye. "Miss Granger, I have made arrangements for you to visit St. Mungo's tomorrow, alone, although you may have a professor accompany you if you wish," Dumbledore began, taking a deep breath. "In a few moments I will be calling Tom to my office, and I would like it if you would inform him of this. When you do, I will contact Severus. Annelise is back in the care of Death Eaters, and I would like it if he knew before hand. I am also considering a special arrangement for you and your brother."

"Arrangement, sir?" asked Hermione with a sniffle.

"It is my understanding that you have no other family, is that correct?"

"Yes sir," Hermione mumbled.

"I think its best that for the next few days, Severus should take a short leave of absence. I want you and Tom to stay with him during that time. He is currently at the residence of your grandparents, and I wish that you to stay there for the duration of the weekend," said Dumbledore.

"But sir, no one but Uncle Severus knows about Tom and I," said Hermione.

"That is true, but this evening Severus will be informing his family of the existence of both you and your brother and will correct any misinformation they have."

Hermione bit her lip, nodding her head as her front teeth sank deeper into the soft pink flesh. Dumbledore stood, calling McGonagall back into the office. She had previously stood in the hall with the two boys, waiting anxiously. The headmaster instructed her to bring Tom Snape to his office, which greatly confused the Head of Gryffindor House. Moments later, moments spent in saddened silence, Tom walked into the room. He was alone, dressed casually and looked as if he had been out doors. Hermione turned to him, sniffing at him and his puzzled look.

"Oh Tom," she whispered.

"Professor Dumbledore, you wanted to see me?" Tom asked, puzzled.

"Yes Tom. Your sister wishes to speak with you about some private matters," said Dumbledore, turning to leave. "I'll give you some time alone."

Tom turned to his sister, confusion etched on his face. A lump formed in Hermione's throat and she choked back a sob. Tom stepped towards her, hand outstretched. Suddenly, in one sweeping movement, Hermione had risen from her chair and wrapped her arms around her little brother. Tears once again fell down her cheeks, wetting her brother's robes. Tom, utterly bewildered and worried, spoke in a small voice:

"Mynee, what's going on?"

"Tom," Hermione sniffled. "I have something to tell you."

"What is it?"

"I got a letter today, from the Ministry of Magic," Hermione began.

"Is that why you ran out of the hall? I saw you, you were crying," said Tom.

Hermione nodded, "It is why I ran out. You see…Death Eaters came to our house last night. They kidnapped mum," she sniveled.

"Is she alright? How's dad?" asked Tom frantically.

"I don't know Tom, but the letter also said that something happened to dad," Hermione took a deep breath, voice quivering.

"What?"

"He died, Tom. Death Eaters killed him," Hermione sobbed. "I am so sorry, Tom."

Tears had since formed in the boys eyes. His onyx eyes were glazed, his bottom lip quivering. He hugged his sister tighter, opening his mouth only to hear a sob in the place of words. Hermione pulled him closer, her own sobs mixing with his. The boy's small body shook in her arms, and Hermione felt another pang in her heart as her brother cried.

"Miss Granger?" came the voice of Dumbledore, who placed a weathered hand on her shoulder.

"Yes, Professor?" Hermione asked, voice cracking.

"I have just owled Severus. He should be receiving the letter within a few hours. I would like it if you would go to your dormitories. You may escort Tom if you like," he offered, smiling at her sadly.

"Come on Tom," said Hermione, standing up, dragging her brother with her.

"I am so sorry, my boy," Dumbledore whispered. "Fear not; you'll be with your uncle soon."

Tom nodded, rubbing his red eyes. Hermione whipped her eyes dry with the sleeve of her robe, leading her brother out. The winding stair deposited them beside Harry and Ron, who raced up to their friend and the rather distraught first year. Hermione gave them a watery smile before she brushed past them, walking swiftly to the Gryffindor dormitory.

"I have to…take him back to the tower," Hermione mumbled in her retreated.

They walked slowly, not a word passing between them. Hermione led her brother along the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower, where she tearfully deposited him. Tom had smiled at her, gently squeezing her hand as he did so. He ran a hand through his tousled hair and muttered the password, stepping through the portrait hole. The Fat Lady gave Hermione a concerned look as she left, a sad smile crossing her plump lips. Hermione managed to return to her common room without encountering anyone, and within a few minutes. Having brushed off the worried questions from the Founders upon entering, she felt overcome with lethargy and crawled onto the sofa where she fell asleep.

X

It was the sound of feet on the stairs that awoke her, summoning her from her horrid slumber. Throughout it, she had been plagued with nightmares in which she witnessed the many cruel ways her father might have been killed. Rising slowly into a sitting position, hair mussed and eyes full of sleep, Hermione turned to the owner of the footsteps. Standing there, clad casually in a green jumper, was Draco, who looked very bewildered. Their eyes locked and Hermione felt rage course through her. Though she didn't know for certain, she had an inkling that Lucius Malfoy was behind the attack at her house. She was sure it had been the elder Malfoy who had drawn his wand and tortured her father, spitting out the killing curse with unfathomable disgust. Now standing in front of her was his son, who would most likely take great pleasure in knowing that his father had caused Hermione pain. Her eyes formed into a glare, anger flushing her cheeks, and in a swift movement Hermione had left the sofa and lunged at him.

"What the hell?" cried Draco in shock.

"You bastard! He's dead because of you! Because of your father! He killed him! He killed him! I hate you!" Hermione was pounding on Draco's chest, clawing and scratching her way to his throat.

"What are you talking about Granger?" Draco asked, trying to fend off the enraged Head Girl.

"I won't let you hurt us anymore! I want you dead! Damn you! Damn you and your stupid stuck-up, evil family!" Hermione cried, pulling at Draco's clothes in an attempt to harm him. "You and your damn Death Eaters, you should all be killed!"

During the time Hermione was screaming, words becoming unintelligible, her tears had formed anew and were streaming down her cheeks. Draco was utterly confused, trying to both understand what she was ranting about and keep her from strangling him. His hands grasped her forearms, holding them in such a way that she could no longer claw at him.

"Granger, what the bloody hell is the matter with you?"

Hermione made a noise that sounded very much like a snarl, "You're what's the matter! You and your family! Your father killed him just so that I would suffer!"

Draco, still as puzzled as before, heaved a sigh. It seemed that all his roommate wanted to do at the moment was yell at him. Having had enough, he gripped her arms tighter, and dragged her over to the sofa. With a grunt Draco tossed Hermione onto the couch, straightening his clothes afterwards. Hermione, breathing heavily, lay where she had been tossed, feeling exposed and open. After a moment or so, Draco sat on the table opposite her, leaning his elbows on his knees. He stared at her, watching as her breathing returned to normal.

"Calm, Granger?" he asked.

Hermione stared at him, fury still etched on her face.

"Alright then, how 'bout you answer a few questions for me," said Draco. "Firstly, what in the hell is the matter with you?"

"Your father…" Hermione started, trailing off.

"Yes, my father, what did he do that has got you in such a tizzy?"

"He killed…" once again, Hermione trailed off.

"He killed, yes, he does that often. Who did he kill?" Draco leaned forward.

"He killed," Hermione took a deep breath. "My father."

"Your…what?" Draco exclaimed.

"He came into my home, last night, and killed my father. No one knows where my mother is, most likely with your father and the rest of those damn Death Eaters," Hermione mumbled.

Draco was silent for a moment. He didn't know what to say to her. Lucius Malfoy was a ruthless man, and it was within Draco's knowledge that he killed people, but he never knew who they were. Be the helpless people muggle or wizard, he never knew them or their aggrieved family. Now sitting in front of him was the daughter left behind, who had escaped his father's wrath.

"I…" he muttered, rubbing his hands together nervously.

"I knew you wouldn't have anything to say. Probably proud of what your father's done. He made the mudblood cry," Hermione hypothesized bitterly.

"That's not it at all!" Draco cried.

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"My father's a bastard, that's a given, but don't presume to think that I'm proud of him killing innocent people!"

Hermione was slightly taken aback. "I may want and idolize what he has; money, power, respect, but I do not condone any of his sick hobbies. I am not like that!" Draco seethed.

They sat in silence for some time, Draco fuming at the Head Girl's allegations. Hermione turned away from him, staring out the window into the grey sky that threatened rainfall. She felt guilty for accusing him and punishing him for the crimes of his father; crimes he had no control over. Even if Lucius killed Henry Granger, that didn't mean that Draco knew or had any part in it. He was just as innocent as she was; as Henry had been.

Without warning, Hermione threw her arms around a stunned Draco, sobbing into his shoulder. Not having much experience with crying females, he petted her on the head, wondering about her rather odd change in temperment.

"It's alright Granger," he said awkwardly. "Everything's going to be fine."

Hermione, too distraught to make any sort of verbal response, nodded dumbly.

X

"What is the owl about, Severus?" asked Lenore Porter, looking up from her dinner plate.

"Yes, do tell us Severus. After all, whatever it is seems to have put a bee in your bonnet," smirked Salazar Snape.

"Please excuse me. I must write a response," Severus said hastily, rising from the table and retreating to the study.

The members of the Snape family looked at each other in confusion. An owl had flow through the open window to land on Severus' chair during their morose early supper. Severus, irked by the Hogwarts' owl, had testily snatched the letter away from it and batted the creature away. He had naturally assumed it was some drivel from Albus that could have waited until he returned to the school, but was sadly mistaken. He was shocked to the core to learn that his sister had been captured by Death Eaters and her muggle husband murdered. He had been even more shocked to learn that his niece and nephew were coming to stay here at the manor for the weekend. His family queried as to what the letter was about, and who had sent it. Severus, however, was much too frazzled to answer their silly questions.

Once in the study, Severus grabbed the nearest scrap of parchment and a quill and wrote a quick note to the Headmaster, telling him to send Tom and Hermione to the manor immediately. Once the owl was sent, Severus sank into the leather desk chair and rubbed his temples. Albus had rather poor timing. After dinner, Severus had planned to explain everything to his family; Annelise, Hermione, Tom and everything connected to them. Now, it seemed he may have to postpone the explanation. At least, he thought to himself, I have a few hours until they arrive.

Snape manor was located at the southern most tip of Britain, just south-west of Truro. It was a large home, made of dark stone and covered in ivy. Trees carefully hid it from muggle view, and the gardens jetted off to a rocky beach. The gap between his current residence and Hogwarts gave Severus more than a couple hours until the owl reached Albus' hands and his niece and nephew flooed over. However, this did not allow him a reprieve from his sibling's constant questioning.

"Severus, what are you doing up there?" called his brother-in-law, William.

"Escaping the constant jabbering of your wife; the one I am loath to call sister," Severus snapped.

William chuckled. "I'll tell everyone you'll be down in a few minutes then, shall I?"

"If you must," Severus muttered.

Severus made his way to the dinning room at a leisurely pace, finishing the meal with few words to his family. Afterwards, when his mother inquired towards Albus' letter, she and Severus' father got into a row. Of course, this was perfectly common. The indifference his parents felt on matters, such as the Dark Lord, was not merely a matter of fence sitting. Both his parents held opposing views on the subject, and after many childish rants, squabbles and days without speaking to each other, they found indifference to be the solution.

Hours passed, and the Snape matron and patriarch hauled themselves to separate rooms, refusing to speak to each other. Despite this being the normal course of their arguments, Severus' patience was wearing thin. Hermione and Tom would be arriving within minutes, if his calculations were correct, and neither of his parents would listen to him.

"Mother, please come into the lounge so I can explain some things to you and father. I do not wish to repeat myself," Severus pleaded from behind a locked door.

"Not until the overbearing goblin I'm married to agrees with me," his mother called.

Severus sighed, having received a similar response from his father. He felt a headache brewing.

"Severus!" called a voice from downstairs.

"What?" he snapped.

"You better come down here!"

Grumbling to himself, Severus swept down the stairs and into the lounge where he saw a most grievous sight. His niece and nephew were lying in a heap on the hearth rug, covered in soot. Their faces were pale and tear-stained, grief prominent in their eyes. Hermione's robes were stained with dirt and grass, her hair a frizzy mess; Tom looked no better. They starred at each other, wide-eyed, no one moving. Suddenly, Tom staggered to his feet and tearfully made his way to his uncle, burying his face in his robes. Severus awkwardly put his arms around the boy, trying to comfort him. Glancing up, he saw Hermione still as a statue, a vapid expression on her face.

"Who the hell are you?"

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. It's my senior year and I'm VERY busy. Hope you like the chapter. The plot is FINALLY picking up. :)

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